Confucius Ads Library: Ads

Ads for foobar on 2024-12-09

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
2,623,221	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2622939}'	No	2024-12-09 19:36	active	1981	Garage Door Troubles? We're Here to Help	Garage Door Troubles? We're Here to Help	LEARN_MORE	http://fb.me/	VooltPro Certified Provider	https://www.facebook.com/vooltprocertifiedproviders/	17	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	fb.me	CAROUSEL	Garage Door Troubles? We're Here to Help	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468496626_1563112860975270_7501896101228074334_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=n7QvIJIHMMUQ7kNvgFK125R&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A39v-zfYWltU591EVtzioPI&oh=00_AYDeI2B282Op4lT7z0LhSGJ2A80bFRmc8VXQorIuATW8bw&oe=675D7E11	PERSON_PROFILE	VooltPro Certified Provider	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,620,849	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2620847}'	Yes	2024-12-09 18:57	active	1980	🔥 I Melted 47lbs at 64 With This New Water Formula...	😢 I used to cry myself to sleep at night. I was 168lbs at 64 years old with back and knee pains, shortness of breath, and no energy. I tried several diets, the gym, and even a crazy injection, and nothing worked. 👩‍⚕️ Finally my Doctor said "Look Kelly, there's a new Water Formula out that has amazing results. Why don't you give it a try?" With nothing to lose I pulled the trigger. Thank God I did because I started shedding pounds week after week! 🔥 It triggered my metabolic hormones and my body began burning fat naturally, just like my Doctor said it would even at my age. 💪 In a short period of time I dropped to 121! I look and feel better than I did when I was in my 30's. This Water Formula changed my whole life! No more huffing and puffing, no more back and knee pains, and I have lots of energy! So maybe this could help you too? Tap "Learn more" now to watch exactly how I did it and start your own transformation today! 👇	LEARN_MORE	https://nutrition-first.net/water-formula	Nutrition First	https://www.facebook.com/nutritionfirstfb2/	11,076	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	nutrition-first.net	DCO	{{product.description}}	https://nutrition-first.net/water-formula	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469611255_928337642574422_1355032226385508057_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9TnQaizAno8Q7kNvgFRndUF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A8pNgAMGCWNJ1apAxJqCdcm&oh=00_AYC5_0jNMSr_PwSRYokjAytgw9C8Jl4GN46nryJJqgkRnA&oe=675D51CA	PERSON_PROFILE	Nutrition First	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,625,480	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2625477}'	Yes	2024-12-09 21:03	active	1982	GARZA (Of Thievery Corporation, DJ set) + Jeremy Sarcoz (limited free before 10:30 w RSVP)	Join us this Friday as as welcome Rob Garza of Thievery Corporation back to Phoenix for a night at Walter Where?House! 🎶 Known for his pioneering work as half of the iconic duo Thievery Corporation, GARZA's solo journey is one of fearless creativity. Drawing from his travels and diverse cultural influences, his sound melds genres and transcends boundaries in a continuous exploration of music as a universal language and the human desire to move on the dance floor. ✨ Joining him on support is Jeremy Sarcoz of Secret Sessions, bringing a taste of Balearic sounds to set the night in motion. This one's going to be a VIBE, so grab your tickets while you can! 💗	BUY_TICKETS	https://www.seetickets.us/event/garza-of-thievery-	Walter Where?House	https://www.facebook.com/walterwherehouse/	9,733	1969-12-31 18:00	Buy Tickets	seetickets.us	DCO	{{product.description}}	https://www.seetickets.us/event/garza-of-thievery-corporation-dj-set-jeremy-sarcoz/626943	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469751700_450891747814648_6443181741069402323_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GHqxW8-F8hYQ7kNvgHc9vZb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqS1qgSmkq3tDihGzeuTzPk&oh=00_AYAhcP8HjhBELkr90grvJUEhyGNXVhtrLUxx3f033zJfZQ&oe=675D7347	PERSON_PROFILE	Walter Where?House	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,628,512	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2628507}'	No	2024-12-10 16:47	active	1985	Unlock Stacked Summit Monetization	Discover the secrets to a six-figure virtual summit and have a record breaking launch! You’ll learn exactly what goes into wildly successful summits that attract thousands of leads and make you into THE go-to expert in your space. This secret podcast gives you a behind the scenes look at our Stacked Summit Monetization™ strategy, the mindset behind a 6-figure summit, and more. Don’t miss this opportunity to learn the secrets to a life and business changing virtual summit!	LEARN_MORE	https://www.summitinabox.co/private-podcast-fb	Summit In A Box	https://www.facebook.com/summitinabox/	1,027	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	summitinabox.co	DCO		https://www.summitinabox.co/private-podcast-fb	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469861200_501318342268082_9214012033815099704_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=15cN_jixkOUQ7kNvgEsvc_8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ape3Yls8dYxl8lViHIgxGJt&oh=00_AYDqrqjWIA_q6sMl21fkj4TuVie0kDS4CYvknQC2eA_NdQ&oe=675E7A0A	PERSON_PROFILE	Summit In A Box	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,620,704	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2620556}'	No	2024-12-09 18:57	active	1980	Descargar ahora👉👉👉	No hace falta que busques más. Esta es la serie que estabas deseando ver. ¡No te la pierdas o te arrepentirás! 😍	WATCH_MORE		Miiowtv short000	https://www.facebook.com/61557562951006/	207	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch More		DCO	{{product.description}}		1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/460927835_521784770706201_6256578325209079264_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nuu3vyzhIWcQ7kNvgFkVmis&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqR99VhObiS4smvlkHyEvcx&oh=00_AYDiHyWtaYfnYmHDqBHiOGq7VrvkL3LzgkhONIh4_gPYWg&oe=675D5907	PERSON_PROFILE	Miiowtv short000	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,627,621	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2627619}'	No	2024-12-10 04:54	active	1984	Enter Now: Engagement Session Giveaway!		GET_OFFER	https://bethleggphotography.com/engagementgiveaway	Beth Legg Photography	https://www.facebook.com/BethLeggPhotography/	304	1969-12-31 18:00	Get Offer	bethleggphotography.com	DCO	This is an engagement photo session giveaway to San Diego couples.	https://bethleggphotography.com/engagementgiveaway	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469780937_1242548130229223_1743639031928930023_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wtDDgzaJcc0Q7kNvgGxzzRU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A-2WG3XxOeFjHmdB12rQ8UJ&oh=00_AYBKklVtVrXxYbCT54u9oY0Ueq4nzTcm9oVLcVtXXQ_uLA&oe=675DDE3E	PERSON_PROFILE	Beth Legg Photography	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,624,833	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2624248}'	No	2024-12-09 21:03	active	1982	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing severe postpartum hemorrhage. Please, come and see her for the last time." The doctor anxiously pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone. But Juan Nichols'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 the eyes of the woman lying on the bed. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? ' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating Debra's vital signs had disappeared. In Debra's 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 died alone and tragically. 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 she has never tried on before. 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. "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, the auction venue was filled with celebrities, and Juan walked to the entrance with Shelia. 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 his assistant 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 and praise. 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/	323	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/t39.35426-6/462661789_1234587497739090_7609319522996207367_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Dqbb-QxNOSYQ7kNvgEUv2BO&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZsGA-umUwjLHfIlaoFmXL6&oh=00_AYC6Z9VCTCLZYCUVv8gS7Oryh42-0x89MkvO5mw667KeWg&oe=675D7D18	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,619,753	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-09 18:45	active	1979		🎉 GIVEAWAY• GIVEAWAY • GIVEAWAY 🎉 Help us on our road to 500 IG followers —3 SIMPLE STEPS •FOLLOW @infinite_handmade_creations__ •TAG 3 accounts 👩🏾🧕🏾👩🏾‍🦱 •REPOST any post from our page ‼️DON’T forget to tag us😌‼️ FREE custom Balaclava (male or female) #crochetist #sewist #handmadecrafts #phillycrochet	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/infinite_handmade_creations__	Infinite_Crochet_Creations	https://www.facebook.com/100069439347179/	12	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	IMAGE		http://instagram.com/infinite_handmade_creations__	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469527188_555273490605267_4357719058844265331_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hTUsum7V7EoQ7kNvgGRg92J&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ABbKhrlvTieda_w9LrMpqIc&oh=00_AYBXneEna3eCgC_mk6b2yAOi3ANzmOgM5wM8Z6BhzY5FKQ&oe=675D3F28	PERSON_PROFILE	Infinite_Crochet_Creations	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,619,358	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2619357}'	Yes	2024-12-09 18:45	active	1979			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	https://www.instagram.com/_u/wanniewinston	Wannie Winston	https://www.facebook.com/wanniewinston/	175	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		https://www.instagram.com/_u/wanniewinston	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469888470_3922352018091604_2898462823138550670_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VojcnbEWvNcQ7kNvgEWOH_1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ABdt23s7cFOmC4Lhb4D3ZLo&oh=00_AYC9CBlGckfUFh7S6B0FdJ2z3uEBreGeOpDou519LIy0ig&oe=675D597B	PERSON_PROFILE	Wannie Winston	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,627,046	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2626591}'	Yes	2024-12-10 04:54	active	1984		🎄🎁 Tis the season of giving! 🎁🎄 We’ve partnered with @PfisterFaucets, @RidgidTools, and @OateyCo to bring some holiday cheer with an epic giveaway! One lucky winner will unwrap a plumbing essentials bundle packed with top-tier gear, tools, and more from some of the brands that make #AmericanPlumberStories possible. Here’s how to enter: #1 Like this post #2 Follow @AmericanPlumberStories, @PfisterFaucets, @RidgidTools, and @OateyCo #3 Tag a fellow plumber or friend in the comments (each tag = 1 entry!) #4 Subscribe to the American Plumber Stories YouTube channel here: youtube.com/@AmericanPlumberStories Contest ends 12/13. Open to U.S. residents only. Let’s make this holiday merry and bright! #PfisterFaucets #RIDGID #Oatey #SeasonofGiving #HolidayGiveaway #PlumbProud #PlumbingCommunity #PlumbersSpotlight #SkilledTrades #PlumbingPride #PlumberSwag			American Plumber Stories	https://www.facebook.com/AmericanPlumberStories/	3,462	1969-12-31 18:00			VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469895305_1004210921436248_2479347377262008528_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=61s6ahrZnLMQ7kNvgEhNUgD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AaCvkgsQujoqm6oopsODjZl&oh=00_AYDoH8Epdi-gV13mAPgf0CAbYiTwd_8DLc2Exz0wORFOuA&oe=675DDD7E	PERSON_PROFILE	American Plumber Stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,619,596	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2619298}'	No	2024-12-09 18:45	active	1979		Join us this Saturday!	CALL_NOW		St. Peter's Episcopal Church	https://www.facebook.com/stpetersashtabula/	812	1969-12-31 18:00	Call now		IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469781386_1154482373020272_1513063677744063952_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=X_YYwag5MO8Q7kNvgGN5bPU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A8TTcniYlNOrBnTOKLbek7f&oh=00_AYBm88m-9sa-4ZuGWleJJbpwi7XRFEHafOmrYK7Ku82UgA&oe=675D68BE	PERSON_PROFILE	St. Peter's Episcopal Church	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,621,625	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-09 18:57	active	1980	💖😍one click to continue FREE reading👉	My ideal lover would be a guy who is not in a hurry to get rest, loves literature and books, and is polite. My sister says that such men are extinct in the 21st century. She accused me of always daydreaming about nerd stuff, which is why I still haven’t cashed in my v-card. I mean, why should I? I've never been in love before. I’m just waiting for something more intimate. But I'm living in a fairy tale now that Daniel has shown up. We've been dating for a few months now after falling in love at first sight at a bookstore. He's thoughtful and attentive and a good listener, which is often the role I play - after all, my specialty is counseling. He doesn’t try to push me to go too far too fast, which sets him apart from other guys and suits my own pace perfectly. Today, in the bookstore where we first met, I take a sip of my cappuccino as I look over my boyfriend’s tall, lanky form, his curly chestnut hair falling into his green eyes. Daniel always dresses so nicely, today in perfectly-pressed grey pants, a shining silver watch at his wrist. Wait, I think, narrowing my eyes and looking closer. Are those diamonds below the glass face? I bite my lip, wondering why my boyfriend has a diamond watch. I mean, I’m just a broke grad student – is he rich? There’s movement over Daniel’s shoulder, and as I look, my eyes go wide. “Daniel, there’s…a guy over there. And he’s staring right at us.” Daniel turns to look directly at the brawny guy, well over six feet and chorded with muscle. His professional suit does nothing to disguise the roughness of his hands, the cruel scar that runs diagonally over his face, almost splitting his nose in two. “Oh, um,” Daniel says, shrugging. “Don’t worry about him.” “Don’t worry about him!?” I whisper, a little scared. “Daniel, he’s looking right at –“ “No, I mean, he’s with me.” Daniel gives me an apologetic smile as my mouth falls open in shock. “That’s Parker, he’s…well. He’s kind of my body guard.” “Oh,” I say, pulling my mouth shut into an awkward O. I stare at Daniel. He needs a bodyguard? How rich is he? “Yeah, just ignore him,” Daniel says, giving me a cool smile. “My dad gets overprotective,” he rolls his eyes at this. “Honestly, he’s so stressed out about safety that he could use a shrink like you to give him some counseling.” Daniel laughs at this, lightening the mood. “Anytime,” I mutter, nervously playing with my long red hair, worrying about the mismatch between Daniel’s wealth and my church-mouse status. I’ve never met anyone before who has a bodyguard. “Can I get you anything else?” Both Daniel and I look up at the baristo who smiles down at us, a really handsome blonde-haired guy who has an apron tied around his waist. “No thanks, Colin,” I say, giving him a big grin. “Actually, can we both get refills?” Daniel says, giving Colin a slow smile. “Oh, actually…“ I say, looking up at the clock and pushing my hair back behind my ears. If I don’t leave now, I’m definitely going to be late for my job doing psych evaluations at the state prison. “She’ll take hers to go then,” Daniel says, rising from our sofa. “Here, I’ll help you.” He follows Colin back to the coffee counter. I start to pack up my bag, intent on catching the next trolly, when I notice Daniel’s phone vibrating on the table, a call coming in. When the number disappears, Daniel’s home screen shows a family photo. The tall man in the back is certainly his dad, the other maybe an older brother? As I try to puzzle it out, the phone rings again – the same number. On impulse, I grab Daniel’s phone and sling my packed bag over my shoulder, heading towards the coffee counter. “Daniel,” I say, slipping behind the counter, “you’re getting a phone call –“ But there’s no one back here. I look around, confused – I definitely just saw Colin and Daniel head this way… I hear a noise from the storage 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 Colin up against the wall of the storage room, one fist wrapped in the fabric of his shirt – kissing him passionately - Colin’s eyes are opened, his sights looking at the coat of Daniel’s suit, his sight already flash, speaking his name – my friend’s name – “Are you kidding me!?” I yell, not even thinking as I hurl the phone at Daniel and his lover. Both boys jump, leaping apart. “Fay – I – “ Daniel’s face is full of shock. Tears in my eyes, I run from the room and from the coffee shop. “Fay!” Daniel spills out onto the street behind me. “You don’t understand!” He grabs my arm, pulling me back to him. “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 –“ “So what,” I asked, surprised. “You just want me to be your pretend girlfriend!? Sorry,” I rip my arm from his hand. “Not interested.” “Please, Fay!” Daniel calls after me as I run away. “Please – I can make this right! How much do you want? One million? Three million? I can-" I see him pull the checkbook out of his pocket. "I don't want your money!" I say, my voice mocking. Daniel blinks and I turn away. "I’ll keep your secret, you don’t need to pay me off. I just don't want to see you again." And just like that, my fairy tale with Prince Charming was over. I hurry down the street, my eyes filling with angry tears. Two hours later, I’m seated at a plastic table in a cinder-block cell, my eyes dried up and my hair tied back in what I hope is a professional look. My leg jitters with nerves and, I think, a little bit of aftershock. I still can’t believe what Daniel did to me. But I straighten up in my seat, taking a deep breath. I have to concentrate on my job now, and I’m incredibly nervous about my next assignment. I’ve only been assigned basic white-collar criminals thus far, but today I have to make an assessment of Kent Lippert, the man known as our city’s Mafia King. His unmatched cruelty and the unbelievable lengths he takes to protect his power are infamous in this town. I hear the hallway door clang open and stand up from my chair, pressing my hands against my blazer to straighten it. This is the most nervous I’ve been since I started this gig. The guards bring Lippert around the corner and I’m surprised – I expected Lippert to be a fat, old, balding man – the kind of greasy lowlife who belongs in our city’s underworld. But this man is trim and tall, moving with a kind of dangerous grace. My eyes follow the way his shoulders shift beneath the fabric of his uniform, the way that the guards quail, a little, as they unlock the cuffs on his hands. I gasp as my eyes finally fall on Lippert’s face, 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, in a picture on my boyfriend’s phone – And again, younger, etched in the features of my boyfriend’s own face. Daniel isn’t just some rich kid. He’s the son of the Mafia King. Kent leans his shoulder against the bars of his cell, his well-muscled arms crossed against his chest. What was he doing in this local prison, created to catch the overflow of the city’s rampant gangs? He was their king, after all. And to think, Kent was here by choice. His lip raises in derision as he shakes his head, wondering if he made the right decision, intentionally getting caught so he could get in here, just for the chance to talk to the warden. Two blue-uniformed guards walk down the row towards him. “Lippert?” They ask. “Warden wants to see you.” They cuff him and take him to the warden’s office. Kent sits down on a chair in front of him, wordless, waiting for the guards to leave. “So,” Sven says, closing his file. “I’m surprised you had the balls to come to my turn for a negotiation, Lippert. It’s brave.” The public didn’t know it, but Warden Sven not only runs this prison, but leverages his control over it to take a significant stake in the workings of the city’s underworld. He is as dirty as the rest of them, and if other bosses go against him? He locks them up. Quite a trump card in this world where one of the only things that stops a gangster is a stay in prison. “I’ll be out soon enough,” Kent responds, leaning back in his chair. “We have to talk about Ivan.” “Ivan?” Sven looks at him closely. “He’s chicken one.” Kent shakes his head slowly. “He’s just a kid, but he’s getting a foot in the good game. But because he’s green he doesn’t have the grit or the resources to handle it.” He pauses a moment, taking Sven in. “He’s getting backed into a corner,” Kent continues, “and it’s making him ruthless. He’s not coming to meetings of the families, he’s killing at will – made men, as well as wise guys. He has to be stopped, Sven. Or he’s going to wreck it for all of us.” Sven leans back into his chair, considering. Kent steels himself, staring Sven down. Antony, his cousin and second-in-command, had told him it was foolish to lock himself up for months just for the chance to talk to Sven. But Kent had a gut feeling this was the right call. An alliance with Sven against Ivan was going to pay off. Big time. “I see your point,” Sven says, breathing out through his nose. “Ivan’s too big for his britches, eh? It’s a delicate ecosystem,” he says, holding his hands out like a set of scales to demonstrate the balance. “We’ve all got to play our parts. If he pushes too far, he destroys it for all of us.” Sven nods, considering his next words before continuing. “I have to admit, Lippert, I’m impressed with your persistence in this matter. I’ve done good work isolating myself, protecting myself, but you found a way in. Not everyone would come to my turf, and stay so long, just for a meeting with me. I respect that. You’re a real capo, a good guy. I’m glad that I know this.” Kent nods, silently confirming this read of him. That’s exactly how he wanted Sven to feel. “Ivan’s a mad dog,” Kent says. “We’ve got to put him down. I’ll provide the muscle; all I ask is that you let us. Don’t interfere. As for the spoils…we split fifty-fifty.” Sven eyes him, considering. “I want eighty-twenty, for my agreement to let you handle it.” Kent doesn’t let his frustration show. He doesn’t care if Sven takes it all, honestly – Sven has power, but he’s notoriously low on cash, a problem Kent doesn’t have. But he can’t let himself be bowled over. “Sixty-forty,” he says, stern. Sven shrugs, not agreeing yet, but not pushing the matter further. “What about the other bosses?” he asks. “Are you anticipating pushback from Alden?” Kent shakes his head quickly. “Alden’s distracted. His guys are running the game, but he’s got some new clue about his lost kid.” He waves a hand, dismissing it. “He’s not going to take a side.” Sven nods, giving him a small smile, and Kent realizes that Sven already knew this. Sven might not have cash, but he does trade in secrets. Likely, Alden got the clue from him to begin with. Kent narrows his eyes, realizing that question was a test. He doesn’t like being tested. “Do we have a deal?” Sven shrugs, again noncommittal. He turns in his chair to stare at a calendar on his wall, the picture of a beautiful vineyard somewhere in Europe. “You know, I had a lovely glass of wine the other day. From Napa. But I gotta tell you, Lippert,” he turns here, looking Kent directly in the eye. “It left me a little parched, a little…too dry.” Sven’s lips start to lift in a cold smirk. “You wouldn’t happen to know…anywhere else. Where a man could get a finer glass of wine. A really good drink. Would you?” Kent flicks his eyes to the calendar again, realizing suddenly that the picture on the wall is a picture of his vineyard, the calendar likely produced as a promotional gift for tourists. Sven knew exactly what Kent would ask even before he set foot in the room, and he knew exactly the price of his cooperation. “France,” Kent says slowly, narrowing his eyes and staring at Sven. Perhaps not such a clean alliance after all. “The best wine in the world comes from France.” “You know, I’d like to try that wine,” Sven says, turning back to the picture, all innocence. “I’d like to get a foot in the industry too. Maybe get some property there, some day.” “Done.” Kent said. It’s worth the price. A good meeting. Kent leaves satisfied. As they walk down the hall, one of the guards turns to him. “We’ve been ordered to take you along to your psychological assessment before returning you to your cell,” he informs him. Kent glares at him, but says nothing. The guard shrugs. “Standard procedure, Lippert. All prisoners gotta do it.” Kent stays silent, following. Sven is pushing it, making him undergo psychological testing, when he’d be out of here tomorrow. He’s just trying to collect more secrets. Kent follows the guards to a cinder-block cell at the end of the hallway, noting that his lawyer is standing outside the door. The lawyer rolls his eyes to Kent and points at his watch, indicating that he’ll have him out of here in no time. Kent nods, and then focuses his attention on the door. He’s surprised, when it opens, to see a girl inside. Not a girl, perhaps, 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 him in. God knows, Kent thinks, his whole body going tense 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 him will take her seriously. He can tell from a single glance that she’s pure as the driven snow – ambitious but poor, eager to prove herself. His eyes rove over her, considering what she’d look like if he ripped that blazer off of her. He focuses, again, on those red lips, slightly parted. His breath hisses from his mouth at the sight of those lips, at the thought of what he could do with them. “Um,” she says, hesitant. He snaps his attention back to her jewel-blue eyes. “My name is Fay Thompson? I’m here to do your preliminary interview for state psychological assessment?” Kent grits his teeth, denying his 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 him wants to know what she’d look like with a little bit of the underworld’s grime smeared all over her. “Hello, Fay,” he says, his voice low and hungry as he moves forward and settles into his chair. “Where do we begin?” I hesitate, settling down in my chair across from this man, sensing that I’m the doe to his wolf. It feels almost as if he could leap across this table at any moment and gobble me up. Daniel’s father is Kent Lippert, the Mafia King of our city. That’s why he has a bodyguard, that’s why he has so much money – I quirk my head to the side, still staring at Lippert, realizing that this is also why Daniel is hiding his sexuality – the mafia of our city are notoriously conservative, and family is everything. A gay son would never be accepted, especially an only son – God, he really did want me to be his beard – Poor Daniel, he’s got to hide everything he loves – Suddenly, 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. I clench my jaw, reminding myself that he is the villain. “So,” I say, turning back to my papers, nervous. You’ve done this a thousand times, Fay! I remind myself. You could do this in your sleep! “Can you please state your name for me, and place of birth?” “I believe,” Lippert says slowly, “That you’re already aware of my history.” He leans back, studying me. I lift my eyes to glare at his impudence – he’s so rude. But, unfortunately, he’s right. Everyone in this city knows this information. I quickly fill out the form. I glance up at him, struck again by his similarity to Daniel. The profile, especially, is almost exactly the same – but whereas Daniel is gentle, refined, Kent has a grim, lethal quality to his face. 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 Kent’s fingers… I quickly dismiss the thought and focus. “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?” He 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 which qualifies me for this position. “Here,” I say, returning his glare. “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. It doesn’t quite hurt, but, surprised, I drop the paperwork as I gasp, looking up at him, terrified as he brings my hand close to his face, and then – Oh my god – Slowly, indulgently, he runs his nose across the ivory skin of my wrist. “Camomile, lavender,” he murmurs, closing his eyes, indulging in my scent. “So fresh and clean,” he says. Then he opens his eyes and stares into my bewildered face, wanting to see my reaction as he says, “you must be a good man.” My lip trembles in shock, in awe. His eyes eat me up, savoring the tremble of my lips, my wide, terrified eyes. A guard flies through the door “Hands off!” he yells, but Kent has already released my wrist, raising his hands over his head, perfectly calm. “Sorry,” he says, 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 say, rubbing my wrist with my other hand. I’m not hurt – just…shocked. 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. I give Lippert a steady glare, raising my chin. I’m tougher than he thinks I am. At least, I hope I am. I pick up my pen again, 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 at the fact that he’s riled me so easily, “is also very precious. You have beautiful legs, and it’s the perfect length to –“ “Please, sir,” I repeat, surprised to hear it come out in a shaky little growl. “I demand your respect in 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.” He enrages me further by laughing at me – actually laughing at me – “Darling,” he says, leaning forward. “I couldn’t take you seriously if I tried. “ My mouth falls open and I blink at him, shocked, but it quickly turns to rage. I slam my hand on the table, but he only laughs harder. “Sir!” I say. “This is an important process!” I hit the table again for emphasis, my hand stinging. He just watches my every movement. “I understand, Doc,” he says. “I’m here, aren’t I? Go ahead. Assess me.” He waves a hand at his body, his powerful muscles, his unyielding gaze. I stare into his eyes and feel overwhelmed, almost hypnotized by his glare. I dart my eyes away, staring down at the floor – anywhere but at him. “You looked away first,” he murmurs, studying me. “On the battlefield, this means you’d have died by my hand. Weak.” Riled, I raise my eyes again to him, determined. “Good,” he laughs. “I like my girls with a little fight in them.” My face goes pale and red at once, enraged, mortified to have fallen for his trick, but also – god knows – I feel my heart go hard under my blazer. His eyes move to my chest, as if he knows it, the hum 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 say, decided, gathering my papers as fast as I can and shoving them, crinkled, into my bag. I can hear him laughing softly at me as I hurry. I take a breath, straighten my shoulders, 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 Lippert again as I start to leave. “Oh, Doctor,” I hear his voice echo behind me. My cheeks burn with embarrassment 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 murmur, my voice trembling as the guard opens the door and I storm out. My paperwork recommends his eternal imprisonment. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll never see him again, and good riddance. “I’m just saying,” Janeen says, shrugging as she slides an omelet out onto a plate. “It’s a red flag when a guy doesn’t want to meet her friends and family. I mean, who even is this Daniel guy, anyway?” I stop dead on the stairs hearing these words, just three steps away from the kitchen. I stay still, hoping to hear what Janeen and dad really think. “I’m just saying,” dad says, shrugging in his chair at the table. “I think you should trust Fay a little more. She’s a clever girl.” He turns and looks directly at me. “Aren’t you, kid?” I scowl, embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping. I take the final steps down into the kitchen and give dad a kiss on the cheek, sitting down in the chair next to him. “I’m smart, but I’m not a kid anymore. Time to update the nickname.” “Never,” he says, smiling at me. “You’re my kiddo forever.” Janeen brings me a plate of eggs, patting me on the head. Even though we’re not related by blood, she treats me just as any condescending big sister would. I came to live with David and Janeen when David married my mom. Even after mom died in her car accident only two years after the wedding, David never gave me any reason to think of him as anything besides my dad. I love him just as much as any blood relation. I have no memories of my biological dad and no idea where he is. “So, what is it about this guy,” Janeen says, settling in her chair across from me. She’s always excited to talk about boys. “There must be something about him, especially because you’ve never called anyone your boyfriend before.” I blush. She’s right but…well, they don’t know yet that my first relationship has already ended in disaster. I’ll make something up in a week or two. “Well, he’s really sweet to me,” I say, picking up my fork and digging into my eggs. “He’s not like the other boys I met. They’re always so loud and annoying. Daniel is…different. A gentleman,” I say with a small smile. And as gay as the day is long, I can’t help but adding internally. The smile falls from my face. But really, they don’t need to know that yet. I eat my eggs quickly, eager to get away from the conversation. “He’s…gentle?” Janeen asks, raising an eyebrow, her voice skeptical. I look up at her, confused, and nod. She laughs. “Oh, poor Fay!” I put my fork down and sit up straight. “What? What’s wrong with that?” “What, he only touches you very delicately? Squires you around town?” Her voice is sarcastic here, saying it as if these are bad things. “Talks to you about books?” “Yes?” I say, drawing my brows together, getting a little angry. “What’s wrong with that!?” “Fay!” she says, leaning forward and laughing. “Come on, don’t you want a guy who gets your blood running a little bit? Not someone who gives you a little peck on the cheek, but who throws you down, makes you want to climb all over him like –“ “Oooookay,” dad says slowly, interrupting her and holding out his hands between us. There’s a smile on his face, though, good natured. “That’s a little more than a dad needs to hear.” Janeen laughs at this, popping another bite of eggs into her mouth. “Okay, touché, dad, but still. Fay, baby,” she looks at me imploringly. “Are you sure this guy isn’t gay?” My face floods red at this, a deep blush as I look down at my plate. How the things did she know?! “Oh my god,” she says, leaning forward, all eagerness. “Is he!?” “No!” I protest, stabbing at my eggs with my fork. “He’s –“ But whatever I was going to say is drowned out by Janeen’s roar of laughter. “Come on, Janeen,” dad says, sternly, after a few moments of this. “I’m sure this Daniel is a great guy.” He looks at me, then, a little pity in his eyes. “Like she says, he’s just a gentleman.” “Okay, okay,” Janeen says, wiping away tears of mirth. “I just want more for our Fay baby! You deserve passion in your relationship, as well as respect and…book talk, or whatever you do.” She shrugs. “I’m very happy,” I murmur, finishing my eggs as quick as I can. “Come down to the club with me,” Janeen says, reaching out and taking my hand. I can tell that she’s trying to make amends. “I’m not working tonight, and we can go have some fun! We’ll get free drinks and you can meet the girls!” I look up at her, hesitating. I love Janeen, but we live in totally different worlds. While I’ve spent my life at school and coffee shops, Janeen has been a night owl, working at various clubs as a servant. Not cheap sleezy places, either, but really high-end ones where they respect her work as a kind of art. She’s very talented, and she makes a ton of money. “Come onnnn” she whines. “We’ll get you more in touch with your body, get your blood flowing.” She dances in her chair, showing us some of her moves, ending with a sexy flick of her long purple hair. I laugh. Janeen has such an effervescent personality, it’s hard not to want to go wherever she’s going. “I’ll think about it,” I say, finishing my plate. “I’ve got some work to do –“ “Work work,” she says, rolling her eyes and scooping up her plate and mine. “You work way too much. Have some fun, baby!” I roll my eyes at her and pat dad on the shoulder as I head into the living room. He picks up his paper, eyes already on the sports section. When Janeen first got started in her profession, I wondered if it bothered dad. But he just said that there’s no stopping Janeen from doing precisely what she wants, so why not go along with it? “Besides,” he had said. “As long as she respects herself, why should I care if she dances in a good man or a tutu? Let her be happy.” I smile at the memory, grateful, again, for such a good dad. In the living room, I open my laptop and open a search engine. My mind drifts to Janeen’s idea that I should get more in touch with my body and my instincts. My cheeks grow red and I find myself – bizarrely – typing Kent Lippert into the search bar. I’m surprised by the results. The news channel that dad watches every night calls Lippert the Mafia King, 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? I gather my hair in my hands, passively starting to braid it as I look through these results, trying to match it with that ruthless man I met in the prison the other day – “Whatcha looking at?” Janeen says, flopping onto the couch and grabbing the laptop out of my hands. “Hey!” I say, snatching at it. “Janeen, give it back!” “Oooohhhh,” she says, scrolling through the photos of Kent on the page. “Now this is a hottie who could light a little fire under me, for sure,” she says, nodding appreciatively. “Who is this guy?” “Kent Lippert,” I say, hugging my knees to my chest. “I had to interview him at the prison the other day. He was…unnerving.” Janeen 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 Fay,” she says, coming across the couch to give me a big hug. “You’ve had a hard week with your gay boyfriend and 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. -------------------------------- Open the app and continue reading the rest of the story . 👉 (It will automatically jump to the book when you open the app) 💕Due to FB has a limit on the amount of text, Pls Download Dreame to read Full version 💕<Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad> on Dreame	LEARN_MORE	https://m.dreame.com/novel/3306838528?auto_jump=tr	Dreame Story Here	https://www.facebook.com/100091450006035/	4,042	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	m.dreame.com	DCO		https://m.dreame.com/novel/3306838528?auto_jump=true&utm_source=facebook_ads&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&af_c_id={{campaign.id}}&af_adset_id={{adset.id}}&af_ad_id={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469456611_1006430554582512_5930768147350017583_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vGKhUQf8IzQQ7kNvgE5pzhu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsEhzhugkiM2wZ-8wKW-38g&oh=00_AYCgdcgBeK3f0_IhmXVa6JUpK__z9am2HCTdW_JLpVUqkA&oe=675D6559	PERSON_PROFILE	Dreame Story Here	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,624,273	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2624278}'	Yes	2024-12-09 21:03	active	1982	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	“Strip.” The one who commanded me was the very man I had loved. “Didn't you hear me? I said strip.” My husband, Caleb repeated, a smirk on his li-ps. I lowered my head, my hands trembling. Tears gathered at the corner of my eyes as I gingerly stepped backwards, subconsciously trying to run away. “Stop her and help her remove her clothes if she doesn't want to do it herself.” Caleb said to the security guards who stood behind me. They came forward and held me by my arms, twisting it to my back and forcing me to kneeel down. “Why?” I asked, “Why are you doing this to me?” My throat constricted. “Why?” Caleb tilted his head, “You were the one who forced my grandfather to make me get married to you. If it was for you, I would have gotten married to Emily. Now, you have to face the consequences of what you did!” Caleb said hatefully and forcefully raised my chin up, motioning for a man to bring over a bottle of wine. My eyes widened as I realized what he wanted to do. “Caleb, please, you know I can't drink that. I beg you, please let me go. Please.” I begged, but it was to no avail. My vision blurred as I choked, gasping for air in between sobs. “Wasn't that good enough?” Caleb questioned, “Now that wasn't so bad after all.” “Caleb… You…” I began coughing, my eyes were getting blurry, it was hard to see their faces. A sharp pain went through my stomach and I gasped. My baby... “C… Caleb… My… my stomach. It hurts.” I gasped again as the pain spread to my spine. I thought I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes, but I was deluding myself. Caleb didn't care, he had never cared. But I still needed help, the pain was almost unbearable now. “No. No!” I cried out as I realized exactly what was happening. I looked back at Caleb who knew that I was having a miscar-riage, I thought he would help me even upon seeing that. But once again, I was wrong. He stepped back, looking at the blood in disgust. Then the world turned black. --------- “Ah!” I gasped, shaking awake. “You shouldn't move like that, you'll open your stitches.”The one with shorter hair and gold rimmed glasses said to me. “It’s...you..” I stammered, all the cells in my body were screaming. Zade Silver, my ex boyfriend.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15016&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15016&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/t39.35426-6/464456042_1979851562482664_990634671024687959_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=plpFSWsFoiEQ7kNvgGSLbaz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqL0aAYJ8atyHoyjIDp_VWP&oh=00_AYDnFo5FBKJ19H9KqskU62jJ0HFnQEFFd2hQ6vlSe8QCKw&oe=675D6537	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,624,656	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2624648}'	Yes	2024-12-09 21:03	active	1982	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&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/t39.35426-6/464613788_1229065298338733_5472258890189944958_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XlYmn0M-l0kQ7kNvgFmeA0g&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZsGA-umUwjLHfIlaoFmXL6&oh=00_AYDd3yAbKJHII7SHdk9hQ8pGSCQBLJpfSq57acHDzTMi4w&oe=675D6721	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,621,546	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2620556}'	No	2024-12-09 18:57	active	1980	Knight Real Estate Group \| Santa Barbara	LISTED \| Nestled in the highly desirable Bel Air Knolls neighborhood, this turnkey 5BD\|3.5BA home offers nearly 2,700SF of thoughtfully designed living space. Just minutes from Elings Park and Hendry’s Beach, enjoy exceptional flow from spacious interiors to a private backyard oasis, complete with lush landscaping and serene outdoor spaces. The upper terrace and bedrooms boast stunning views, and modern upgrades ensure comfort and style throughout. 📅 Open Houses: Saturday 1-3 PM & Sunday 1-4 PM Come see why this home is the perfect blend of privacy, location, and coastal Santa Barbara living! 🏡✨ 📍 For more details, visit: 1523Portesuello.com #JustListed #SantaBarbaraLiving #BelAirKnolls #OpenHouse #SantaBarbaraRealEstate #CoastalLiving #Views #TurnkeyHome #SantaBarbara #HendrysBeach #ElingsPark #LuxuryLiving #YourNextHome #BHHSRealEstate #BHHSCPSantaBarbara #KnightRealEstateGroup	MESSAGE_PAGE		Kelly Knight, Santa Barbara Real Estate Broker DRE# 01463617	https://www.facebook.com/KellyKnightRealtor/	419	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469506933_1482783682399321_5746277442638672301_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wuzkUizaufsQ7kNvgFuXaJ6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKtS-fB-Yu1af8iEDMJb1hN&oh=00_AYDJSs9oxi7BfUHZRwAxwHmDbnKKLuv67BWAiLZiRk5rag&oe=675D6419	PERSON_PROFILE	Kelly Knight, Santa Barbara Real Estate Broker DRE# 01463617	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,625,165	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2623933}'	Yes	2024-12-09 21:03	active	1982	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Carissa, the king has issued a decree allowing Aurora to marry into our general's house. I hope you can accept and respect this fact." The person who said this is Carissa Sinclair's husband, Barrett Warren. A year ago, on the night of their wedding, Barrett set out to lead his army into battle. Now, after finally returning victorious, he brings Carissa this kind of "good news." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has said that General Yates is a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won't be a concubine. She'll be my legal wife and equal to you." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Equal to me, huh? Do you remember what you said to me before you left for war?" On the wedding night a year ago, he personally lifted Carissa's veil and promised affectionately: "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Feeling awkward, Barrett turned away. "Forget what I said. When I married you, I didn't understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "She's unlike any woman I've ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! When Barrett left, the general's mansion had already fallen into decline. All the expenses were supported by the dowry Carissa had brought. Barrett's mother, Rebecca, was suffering from a strange illness, and she had invited a reclusive divine doctor to treat her. Each month, dozens of silver coins were spent on exorbitant medical fees, not to mention Carissa's constant care by Rebecca's bedside. In the end, she got such a reward. So, the kindness that this family shows is merely because they are relying on Carissa's dowry. If Barrett's betrayal was like a sharp sword, then Rebecca's hypocrisy was like thousands of silver needles, piercing deeply into Carissa's heart. Carissa pressed her lips into a thin line as she blinked away the tears in her eyes and sharpened her gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, she's different from any woman you know. She's a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldn't want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That's them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. She's straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you won't like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "It's fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I'll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" "Never mind. I don't want to argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing,"said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. As Carissa watched him leave in a huff, she felt even more bitter. "My lady, my lord was too much!" said Lulu, Carissa's maid, wiping her tears away. "Don't call him that!" Carissa gave her a stern look. "We never consummated the marriage. He's not your lord. Go fetch my dowry list." "Why the dowry list?" Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. "Silly girl, why would we stay in this house any longer?" Lulu held her forehead and gasped. "But your mother arranged this marriage, and your father wanted you to marry and have children." Tears finally welled up in Carissa's eyes at the mention of her parents. Carissa actually came from a family of warriors, and she had been training in martial arts since she was young, showing great talent. However, when she was 15, her father and several brothers died on the battlefield. Since then, her usually open-minded mother advised Carissa to hide her skills and, like other noble girls, find a husband to live a stable life. But now it seems she has betrayed her mother's expectations. Lulu brought over the dowry list and explained, "This year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins to support the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." Carissa glanced at the list, narrowed her eyes, and sneered, "No wonder they covet my dowry so much." The dowry her mother provided was quite substantial; she hadn't paid much attention to it before. Now she realized how much effort her mother had put in for her. "Then, my lady, what shall we do now?" Carissa's eyes grew cold. "I could confront the king and use my family's achievements to force him to reverse his edict. If he refuses, I'll kill myself in protest." Lulu was terrified and immediately protested, "My lady, you can't!" Carissa's expression softened, and a sly smile appeared on her face. "Do you think I'm that foolish? If I manage to reach the king, I'll only request an edict for an amicable divorce." Barrett was able to marry Aurora because of a royal edict. So, Carissa should also be issued an official edict to leave. She shouldn't have to sneak away like she was being cast out. In addition, the law states that if a woman is divorced, her husband has the right to keep all her dowry. Right now, Barrett doesn't dare to divorce her, mindful of his reputation, but who knows what will happen in the future? Carissa no longer wanted to believe in this hypocritical man, nor did she want to live under the same roof with him. She once hoped to build a life with Barrett, so naturally she would not be stingy with her dowry. However, circumstances had changed. She intended to leave the general's residence with dignity and take every last coin of her dowry back home!	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&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/t39.35426-6/464183718_1608087840126342_8310047084193887164_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dwdr0mcSD20Q7kNvgFntE8P&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6NmLnNe3rwn79sbYOF9Rky&oh=00_AYDizk6iTfU5mw32Eb8ZKQ7Fp2SJeO27IarmBhgjCKtSAw&oe=675D5F5B	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,620,550	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2620556}'	Yes	2024-12-09 18:57	active	1980	The Vampire And His Blood Wife👉👉👉	The Vampire And His Blood Wife ONLY on Drama Time.🎬 Don't miss out! Watch the series you've been wanting to see. No regrets, just pure entertainment! #Must SeeTV #No Regrets #Watch Now	WATCH_MORE		Romantic Love	https://www.facebook.com/61557838064349/	344	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch More		DCO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461161006_552547384104728_2693328307478602036_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RoKfoMumKfoQ7kNvgHjNG6e&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AbchnvUkg7P8Uwdl2JHXq2p&oh=00_AYA-Xjbu-Mbf64p-DGtBhV2IMnNHjbBtSu4ZdoeKcFdTgg&oe=675D6A23	PERSON_PROFILE	Romantic Love	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,619,957	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-09 18:45	active	1979	instagram.com	BCaf Dispensary is thrilled to announce our VERY FIRST HOLIDAY GIVEAWAY! To spread some cheer and show our appreciation for our amazing community, we’re giving away a $100 GIFT CARD TO STARBUCKS! ☘️Must be 21+ to Enter!☘️ Giveaway Details: Must like this post. Must follow @bcafnj on Instagram Must follow @bcafnj on Facebook Bonus Entry: Share this post in your stories and tag us! Double Bonus Entry: Tag 3 friends who love the holidays as much as you do! One Lucky Winner will be randomly selected and announced on Thursday, December, 12th @ 12pm! Good luck, and thank you for being part of our community! ☘️Must be 21+ to participate!☘️ #BCAFDispensary #HolidayGiveaway #StarbucksGiftCard #CannabisCommunity #SpreadTheCheer#scotchplains#scotchplainsfanwoodnj#plainfield#plainfieldnj#westfield#westfieldnjlocal	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/bcafnj	Bcafnj	https://www.facebook.com/61570094245102/	6	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	IMAGE		http://instagram.com/bcafnj	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469662199_2681145085410743_5823931177909271832_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kLx2LNCPE5MQ7kNvgG-EY42&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqT7H5St6ApLjKFkYs2Utt1&oh=00_AYDhk-RAILz_QrJmsnFFk9SBeP1tq0Eo91-HHNhESFYNHg&oe=675D5B5F	PERSON_PROFILE	Bcafnj	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,623,037	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-09 19:36	active	1981	Read next chapter	She and her stepsister fell in love with the same man, but when he knelt down to beg her to save her stepsister, she felt desperate. She demanded to become his wife to save her stepsister. Two years later, when she got the divorce agreement as scheduled, she realized that she had ended up losing everything. ===== Emma Cooper boarded her flight home after three grueling months of filming. Today was also the final day of Emma's contractual marriage. The four-hour journey felt endless, but at last, the plane touched down. Once she retrieved her suitcase, she made her way toward the exit, expecting a company car. But as soon as the doors slid open, she spotted someone familiar--Edwin Reid, the Jenner family's long-time driver. He stood by a sleek black Rolls-Royce, his posture rigid and respectful, waiting. Dragging her suitcase, she approached. Edwin immediately took over, wordlessly opening the car door for her. Inside, a man sat in silence. His presence was cold yet commanding, encased in a perfectly tailored black suit. His sharply chiseled face devoid of any expression, he didn't look up--not even a glance her way. It was Ricky Jenner, her husband of two years. His unexpected appearance caught her off guard, though she quickly remembered why he was here. Their arrangement was ending today. Of course, he would show up. Emma slid into the car, maintaining a careful distance, the space between them as silent and tense as ever. For two years, Ricky had made it clear--he didn't want her close. Tonight was the first time they had been seated so near, and the closeness felt foreign. The faint scent of his cologne lingered between them, familiar but distant, like everything about him. Edwin quietly loaded her suitcase into the trunk and slid back behind the wheel. As the car pulled away from the airport, the silence inside grew suffocating. Ricky's expression remained as cold and distant as ever, his presence casting a shadow over the space. Emma's heart raced, each breath coming in shallow, uneasy waves. Twenty minutes later, the Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop in front of the Jenner family's grand estate. Before Emma could collect her thoughts, the butler rushed out, swiftly opening the door. Ricky stepped out first, his long strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance in her direction. "Let's go to the study," he muttered, his tone clipped, not even bothering to slow his pace. Emma's nerves had been on edge the entire ride. She knew what was coming. The moment she entered the study, she saw Ricky pull out a stack of papers from the desk drawer, tossing them in front of her. "Let's get a divorce," he said. Emma's heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she remained composed. She had loved Ricky for ten years, and wearing the title of Mrs. Jenner had never brought her closer to his heart. His body, his soul--none of him had ever belonged to her. "Nicola is old enough to marry now, isn't she?" Emma said, her voice trembling despite her best effort to keep it steady. Ricky's brow twitched slightly, a flicker of impatience crossing his sharp features. He didn't bother responding to her comment. Instead, he immediately extended the pen toward her, a silent demand. Emma forced a smile, but it felt like a crack in her mask. Without her usual makeup, her lips looked pale, and her face seemed drained of life. The exhaustion was undeniable. "Just sign it," Ricky said, emotionless and firm. She accepted the pen and, without sparing a glance at the contents of the contract, flipped to the last page and signed her name. The act felt final, yet hollow. As she placed the pen down, Emma glanced up at Ricky. His eyes, still striking, stared back at her with an icy detachment that sent a shiver through her. It was as if he was looking at a stranger, not his wife. "It's getting late. I'll move out tomorrow, if that's alright?" Emma asked, her voice fragile, her smile tense as she searched Ricky's face for even a shred of warmth. But Ricky's response came swift and sharp, dashing any hope. "Edwin will take you to a hotel." Was he really sending her away this very moment? Not even allowing her the courtesy of one last night under this roof? Her forced smile faltered, then vanished altogether. The silence between them stretched, heavy. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment before she turned away, her heart hardening with each step as she left the room. In her bedroom, Emma took the suitcase she hadn't even had the chance to unpack. When she dragged her suitcase downstairs, the maids rushed to help, but she waved them off, her smile weary. "Thank you, but I can handle it." They exchanged helpless glances, standing quietly in a line as they watched her approach the door. In the two years she had spent in this house, Emma had grown to care for the people here. Everyone, except Ricky, had shown her warmth. A pang of sorrow hit her, but after enduring two years of emotional isolation, she no longer had the strength to fight. It was over. Time to move on, and finally, let go. Despite the searing pain ripping through her chest, Emma remained dry-eyed. She had learned how to hide her emotions well. As she slid into the backseat of the car, she forced herself to appear composed. Edwin drove her through the city streets and dropped her off at a five-star hotel. Without a word, he left. Inside, Emma checked in and powered on her phone, which had been off for hours. There was a missed call from her father, Colby Cooper. She inhaled deeply, bracing herself as she dialed his number. Colby picked up almost immediately. "Emma, Nicola's condition has worsened," he said, his voice rough, weighed down with exhaustion and worry. Emma's heart skipped a beat. "What? When did this happen?" "About a week ago." "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked. "You were busy filming. I didn't want to burden you," Colby explained. Emma paused, the silence between them heavy. Her mind flashed back to two years ago, when she had donated her bone marrow to save Nicola Cooper. The realization hit her--she knew exactly why her father was calling. "What do you need me to do?" she asked, her voice steady but resigned. "No, there's nothing you need to do. Ricky's already taken care of everything--he's brought in top doctors, and the hospital found a bone marrow match for Nicola from the registry. You just need to visit when you can," Colby said. Emma stayed silent, her chest tightening. Colby, sensing her hesitation, gave her Nicola's room number and urged her to come soon, mentioning how much Nicola missed her. A sharp pain gripped her heart. She managed a weak "okay" before quickly ending the call, unable to hear more. That night felt endless. She tossed and turned on the unfamiliar hotel bed, her mind racing. By 2 a.m., she gave in, ordering a bottle of red wne. She drank most of it before finally drifting off into a fitful sleep. The next morning, close to noon, Emma was jolted awake by her phone ringing. Her agent's voice was quick and urgent on the other end. She pitched the idea of her joining a popular rural reality show--one that guaranteed fame for all who participated. "I'm not interested. I need a break," she replied, her voice groggy with exhaustion. Her agent snapped, clearly frustrated, "A break? Do you think you can take a break whenever you feel like it? Look, you've been in this industry for three years. You've turned down intimate scenes, refused reality shows and avoided any publicity stunts with male celebrities. The company has bent over backward to accommodate you! But what now?" Her voice grew sharper. "Three years in, and you still lack ambition. Keep this up, and your career will be done." "Then let it be done." "Emma, you..." Her agent's voice was cut off as Emma ended the call without hesitation. The frustration simmered inside her, but she didn't dwell on it. She headed straight to the bathroom, ignoring the incessant buzzing of her phone. After a long shower, feeling slightly more clear-headed, she decided to reach out to Jenifer Howard, a close friend she hadn't seen for a while. Emma asked if she could stay at Jenifer's place for a few days. Jenifer was thrilled and agreed, coming over to pick her up almost immediately. Once settled at Jenifer's, Emma unpacked her things and shared a quiet meal with her friend. That afternoon, she made her way to Ecatin General Hospital. Standing outside Nicola's room, Emma watched through the glass as the caregiver tried feeding her sister. Nicola, frail and pale, managed only a few bites before she began to retch. Emma's chest tightened with a sorrow she couldn't fully articulate. Nicola was her half-sister, five years younger and barely twenty now. They had been inseparable as children; Nicola had always looked up to her, following her everywhere. But everything changed when they both fell in love with Ricky. Two years ago, when Nicola was first diagnosed with leukemia, Ricky had been beside himself with worry. That was when the truth hit Emma--Ricky didn't love her. His heart belonged to Nicola. Chapter 2 You Don't Deserve To Be Around Nicola Back then, Emma's blod test results had come back clear--there were no complications, no signs of rejection. She could save Nicola. In truth, Emma wouldn't have hesitated to donate her bone marrow to a stranger, let alone her own sister. But before she could even voice her decision, Ricky had already thought of her as cold and indifferent, assuming she wouldn't step up to save Nicola. He was so desperate that he even knelt before her, pleading for her help--a sight that shattered Emma's heart. Never in her life had she seen Ricky humble himself for anyone like that. She had known Ricky since they were kids. From elementary school to high school, they had been inseparable. Childhood sweethearts, as some might have called them. Ricky used to get into fights with other boys just to defend her, and he would stay up late into the night to help her prepare for exams. She had believed, naively, that after all those years of being by his side, she would eventually earn his love. But she was wrong. Feelings, she had come to understand, were never won by logic or time. Emma was never as good at acting cute or knowing exactly how to please Ricky as Nicola. While he cared for both of them, the way he doted on Nicola was always more tender, more genuine. He must have loved her deeply. The thought pierced Emma's heart, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. What hurt most wasn't just Ricky's love for Nicola but the fact that he had assumed she was heartless enough to let her sister die. That judgment, so harsh and wrong, had infuriated her. In a moment of blind anger, she had demanded that Ricky marry her. She wanted to be his wife. Even though the marriage would only last two year, she had believed--foolishly--that it would be enough time for Ricky to fall in love with her. But reality, sharp and unforgiving, had torn that hope apart. She had lost. Miserably. "You still have the nerve to show your face here?" A biting voice yanked Emma out of her thoughts. Emma quickly wiped away her tears and turned to see Verena Cooper standing behind her, her expression instantly turning cold. Verena, her stepmother, was forty but looked a decade younger. With her perfectly styled hair and chic designer clothes, she exuded elegance and control. When Emma was still mourning the loss of her mother, Verena, who had been the family's servant, got pregnant. The father of the baby was Colby. "Spare me the crocodile tears!" Verena sneered, brushing past Emma as she entered the hospital room. Emma swallowed her frustration and followed behind, forcing herself to remain composed. When Nicola saw her, a faint light flickered in her otherwise tired eyes. "Emma," she said softly, a trace of warmth in her voice. Emma smiled, walking over to gently take Nicola's hand. "I heard you've been missing me." Nicola nodded, her expression gentle. "I haven't seen you for three months. I really missed you." Emma's heart twisted painfully. Nicola, with her innocence and kindness, made everything so much more difficult. How could her own sister, the one she'd loved and cared for, be the one standing between her and the man she longed for? When Nicola had fallen ill, Emma had crossed a line she could never uncross--using that tragedy to secure her place as Mrs. Jenner. She had expected Nicola to resent her for it, maybe even despise her. In her mind, their meetings would be cold, filled with resentment and distance. But Nicola still cared about her as though nothing had changed. And that was the hardest part of all. Every time Emma looked at her sister, the guilt became unbearable. "I'm taking a break right now, so I've got plenty of time to spend with you," Emma said, her eyes still red from emotion, but she forced a smile. Nicola's face lit up. "That's amazing! I want you to visit me every day until I'm discharged, okay?" "Of course, I'll be here every day," Emma replied warmly. From the side, Verena rolled her eyes, glaring at Emma with open contempt. She held her tongue for Nicola's sake, but every time she looked at Emma, her anger flared. She couldn't forget how Nicola had become a shell of herself when Ricky married Emma. Fighting her bitterness, Verena coaxed Nicola to sleep. Once Nicola was asleep, she turned to Emma, her voice cold. "Ricky's coming soon to see Nicola. If you don't want an uncomfortable scene, you'd better go." Emma stood silently, taking in her words. After one last glance at Nicola, now peacefully asleep, she turned and headed for the door. Just as she reached the doorway, Verena's voice cut through the air once more. "Don't bother coming back. After everything you've done to her, you don't deserve to be around Nicola." Emma didn't say a word. She walked out, her steps heavy with the weight of a truth she'd long grown accustomed to carrying. Emma quietly closed the door behind her and collapsed onto a bench in the corridor. She buried her face in her hands as tears flowed uncontrollably, her body shaking with silent sobs. Jenifer had been waiting outside in the car for far too long. Concerned, she decided to head into the hospital to check on Emma. When she entered the corridor and saw Emma hunched over on the bench, looking utterly defeated, Jenifer was about to rush over when she noticed Ricky stepping out of the elevator. He paused when he spotted Emma, but after a brief pause, he walked toward her. Emma had been following Ricky everywhere since childhood; she knew the sound of his footsteps anywhere. Hearing that familiar rhythm, she quickly wiped her face and tried to compose herself, though the effort felt futile. "Are you here to see Nicola?" she asked, forcing a smile as she looked up at him. Her eyes were swollen from crying, with streaks of smudged makeup on her face. She looked fragile, a shadow of her usual self. Ricky's response was indifferent. "You've already visited her?" "Yes," Emma whispered. For a moment, something in her appearance must have stirred a hint of sympathy, because Ricky, in an unusual display of kindness, added softly, "Don't worry. Nicola will be undergoing a bone marrow transplant soon. She'll get better soon enough." "I know." With just those words, Ricky simply turned to push open the door to Nicola's room. But before he could step inside, Emma couldn't help but call after him, "Please, take good care of her." If she couldn't have him, then maybe it was time to let go, to give him back to Nicola--the one he truly loved. Ricky paused, his hand on the door. Without turning to face her, he replied in a voice laced with restrained anger, "I don't need you to remind me. I'll take care of her." His words were sharp, each syllable weighted with frustration. Emma flinched. She had already signed the divorce papers, freeing him from their hollow marriage, giving him the chance to return to Nicola. This was what he had always wanted, wasn't it? So why did he still seem so furious with her? Was he really that eager to be rid of her? Did he hate her that much? Ricky disappeared into the room, but Emma remained frozen on the bench, her eyes locked on the closed door. She felt hollow, lost in the emptiness of it all. Jenifer, who had been watching from a distance, couldn't bear it any longer. She rushed over, gently pulling Emma to her feet and dragging her away from the hospital ward. In the days that followed, Emma continued visiting the hospital, but she no longer went inside Nicola's room. She only stood by the door, looking through the glass to catch a glimpse of her sister. Sometimes she would see Ricky taking Nicola for walks outside, their closeness painfully clear. From afar, she would watch, a quiet spectator to the life she had no part in. Ricky's coldness toward her was always in stark contrast to his gentle care for Nicola, a contrast that left Emma with a deep, aching wound that never seemed to heal. A month later, Nicola successfully underwent her bone marrow transplant. There were no signs of rejection or complications, and her recovery was progressing smoothly. For the first time in a long while, Emma felt a sense of relief. In the past month, Ricky spent nearly all his time at the hospital, constantly by Nicola's side. He seemed to have forgotten about going to the courthouse with her to finalize the divorce. Emma had watched enough of his affection toward Nicola. She was ready to close this chapter, ready to walk away and rebuild her life. That day, she made up her mind to call him. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before Ricky finally picked up. "What is it?" he asked, his tone as cold and detached as ever. Emma didn't hesitate. "When are we going to finalize the divorce?" There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line. When Ricky finally spoke again, his voice was distant, but his words caught her off guard. "I haven't signed the papers yet." Her heart skipped a beat. After all this time, he still hadn't signed the divorce papers? Emma froze for a moment, her mind racing. Why hadn't Ricky signed the papers yet? Could he have changed his mind? Was there a possibility he no longer wanted the divorce? The thought was fleeting and absurd, and she quickly dismissed it. Ricky had always wanted to be free of her. Now that Nicola was recovering and old enough to marry, there was no reason for him to hold on. This delay couldn't possibly mean anything different. "Meet me at the courthouse tomorrow at nine," she said, her tone sharp, leaving no room for discussion before hanging up the phone. Meanwhile, in Ricky's office. For two years, Ricky had been waiting for this moment--the end of their marriage. The divorce papers had been drawn up months ago, prepared by his assistant, ready for the final signatures that would sever their ties for good. He had thought the moment he signed would bring relief, a clean break. But after Emma had actually signed them, something gnawed at him. A strange unease he couldn't shake. Ricky wasn't sure anymore, not even of himself. He wasn't something to be traded or handed over between two women. His decisions were his own--no one else had the right to make them for him. He calmly finished his work, then pulled the divorce papers from his desk drawer and tore them to pieces. "Divorce?" Ricky's lips twisted into a mocking smile. "It's not that simple. The game has just begun." ...... ==== Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/62445322-fb_contact-e	Fun Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/	1,272	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/62445322-fb_contact-enj103_2-1101-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&rawadid=120213135762120604	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465673344_1248850759787366_8542297832339954376_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8jX3qzmnY38Q7kNvgEPgKPr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqopgJvBngv36ADnaa4FE1O&oh=00_AYDZQJu3TYZV3VgDP26SEEmvzbCizjuMql0spOjEUanmAg&oe=675D6B76	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,624,680	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2624648}'	No	2024-12-09 21:03	active	1982	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father told us that our debts had all been repaid. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. As far as my parents knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as his toy. But what other choice did I have? I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. I had no idea when Joseph would return. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&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/t39.35426-6/464446123_872410864981319_4606585567578669790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ccDQ6V1a0xEQ7kNvgFhAYt2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZsGA-umUwjLHfIlaoFmXL6&oh=00_AYCcF526FbCYInr4ngxbPBHSkhUfdwvPOgMSkZpwajlexA&oe=675D7653	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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