The arranged marriage between the sharp-tongued heiress and the overbearing young master. "I like you." "I object." "Objection overruled."
The arranged marriage between the sharp-tongued heiress and the overbearing young master. "I like you." "I object." "Objection overruled."
After playing Temple Run for a thousand hours, I still can't shake them off when being chased by the bodyguards.
At the moment I'm running wildly through the hotel corridors, followed by three or four tall, black-suited bodyguards. They were hired by mom and dad to protect, oh no spy on me.
" Miss Thompson, wait, Miss Thompson, please don't run."
The charity dinner will be held tomorrow, and all the socialites in New York will be in attendance. My dear mom and dad, decided to auction my diamond necklace at the dinner. It's called auctioning the necklace, but it's actually to find a good buyer for their daughter. A family marriage, the highest bidder wins.
And I, as a great woman of the new age who is independent and aspires for free love, will not be controlled by my family to marry someone I don't like, I'm going far away tonight!
"Babe Mia, the the stairs in front of the corridor have been occupied by the bouncers! The original plan won't work. " came the guidance of Charlotta, my best friend, from my blue-tooth headset.
"Damn! I didn't realize mom and dad would react so quickly. "
I could see the end of the hallway ahead, and the sound of footsteps snapping behind me was getting louder and closer.
I panicked and swiped my card with Charlotta's stolen universal room card into the last room at the end of the stairs.
Open the door, get into the room, turn around, lock it.
All in one fell swoop.
I have to say that it would be a waste of my skills not to become a female spy.
Moments later, I heard footsteps outside the door stop.
The bodyguards gathered outside the door and whispered, "Miss went in, what should we do?" "Tell Mr. Thompson and Mrs. Thompson first."
I forced myself to calm down and surveyed the environment. It was a fairly clean room. The silk quilt was spread out flat on the bed without a single wrinkle. There was no clutter in the room. It appeared to be an empty room.
There came three knocks from outside the door. It could be heard that the knockers were extremely restrained.
"Mr. Miller, are you there? Mrs. Thompson said the housemaid stole the jewels and escaped. We are under orders to search the premises. Would it be convenient for you to open the door for us to check."
Mr. Miller? Is that the Miller family heir. I was shocked. The handsome face I saw when I was in junior high school suddenly surfaced before my eyes. His slender, upright frame stood at the podium in the school's auditorium and he spoke with ease and confidence about his internship in the family business. The man whose eyes bright as stars and eyebrows sharp as swords. The man who made a young girl in love fall in a second. Is he from this family? Besides, what did mom mean when she said the maid escaped? Doesn't even I deserve a name? Did mamma feel that her daughter's running away from home was a real disgrace to the Thompson family, and disown me as her daughter?
Only deadly silence. Suddenly there was the sound of a door card being swiped to unlock the door.
Damn!
Where to hide!
The closet? Oh I'm already thinking of the awkward scenario of the bouncer opening the door and us staring at each other in disbelief.
Refrigerator? That's turning into a criminal case!
The door's open! What to do!
A hand suddenly reached out from the bathroom and pulled me in. I was so shocked that I wanted to scream for help! However, my mouth was covered by another hand.
In the next second, I was already lying face down in the bathtub with my whole body. To be precise, I was on top of a man in the bathtub.
Pervert!
However, the bodyguards seemed to have opened the door and entered the room. It was only at this moment that I noticed that the bathroom had an electronic screen that allowed me to see the scene outside the door, which meant that every move I made before was all seen by this man! Why isn't he talking? He can't talk? My eyes switched back and forth between the electronic screen and this man in horror. The water in the bathtub was so hot, with roses floating on the surface, that I couldn't see what was going on underwater. I didn't mean that I want to have a look, It's worth mentioning that. The man's hand held my head, pressing it firmly against his chest.
"Mr. Miller? Are you there?" The lead bouncer asked tentatively as he moved into the room.
"Breaking into my room, who sent you? " His tone was calm but somehow gave off a sense of oppressiveness.
"Hey Mr. Miller, it's Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, said their daughter Mia, oh no the maid ran out and asked us to get her back. We were just following orders, so don't be angry sir."
"A maid?" He glanced down at me. "There is no maid here. You guys can search if you don't believe me."
I heard the sound of a cabinet door opening and closing, and it seemed that they had finished searching the outside rooms, leaving the bathroom.
"I wonder if Mr. Miller would mind letting us look in the bathroom."
I was startled subconsciously hugging the man tighter. Only then did I realize he was naked. Even though it was said that no one wore clothes in a bubble bath. But at the moment I was lying in the tub with him. What kind of picture is this? Renaissance art painting? A man taking a bath and a female outlaw?
The bathroom door was covered but unlocked. I glanced at the man in horror.
His expression was calm and composed, not a ripple to be seen.
"Hold your breath." He said softly.
"What?"
The next second my entire head was pressed into the water.
I instinctively closed my eyes. But before I could close my mouth, water rushed into my airways through my nostrils and mouth. Damn it, I was going to drown. My heart pounded as though it was about to burst out of my chest. The oxygen in my lungs was running out. I wanted to struggle, but my head was held down firmly, immobilized
Murder, this was murder!
Excuse me!" The bodyguard who barged in was startled to see Mr. Miller taking a bath, and quickly backed out. However, in just those few seconds, the well-trained bodyguard managed to scan the entire bathroom, and indeed, there was no sign of Miss Mia.
"Finished checking, your maid is indeed not here, right?"
"Yes, Mr. Miller, this..." the lead bodyguard replied.
"I clearly saw the young lady run in there," another bodyguard whispered.
"Let's go back and report to Mr. and Mrs. Thompson."
"Sorry for disturbing your rest, sir."
The moment the door closed, I leaped up from the water. I knelt in the bathtub, my upper body rising above the water surface, my chest heaving, breathing heavily. This nearly 40-second ordeal almost took my life. I, the unrivalled beauty, almost died here today!
And that man, he lay in the bathtub at the moment, watching me leisurely, his eyebrows slightly raised.
"How about..." "Are you crazy?"
Both people spoke at the same time.
My words seemed to surprise him.
"You're crazy, I almost drowned!" I glared at him.
He laughed lightly, lifting his hand to tuck my wet hair behind my ear, "I was saving you."
"Mind your own business!" Being caught and locked up was the worst that could happen, but his brilliant idea almost drowned me in the bathtub.
I got up angrily to get out of the tub, one foot stepping onto the floor. The floor was too wet, my foot slipped, and I almost fell.
"Ah!" This time I was scared enough to scream.
The man got up and held me, I instinctively grabbed his shoulders. In the moment our eyes met, I noticed his eyes were a dark green. In his bright pupils, my stunned face was reflected. His facial lines were clean and sharp, high nose bridge, and a mole near the corner of his eye. My body, completely soaked by water, was pressed tightly against his chest. Soft yet firm. I could hear my heart pounding.
Why is he so handsome? Wait, is this what I should be thinking right now?!
"I saved you again," he said with a light laugh. His eyes seemed to be teasing.
"I don't need you to save me." I spoke gritting my teeth word by word.
The arm holding me suddenly relaxed. I instinctively wanted to grab onto something but failed, falling onto the floor with a thump.
My butt felt like it had split into a thousand pieces. Pain spread in between every piece.
The pain made me cry out, but I still struggled to get up.
"Miller, I don't know which Miller you are, probably the most shameless Mr. Miller in your family, don't let me see you again!" I ran out of his room rubbing my butt.
A disdainful laugh came from behind.
I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.
For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"
In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?
Marrying her best friend was a dream come true for Kelly, but everything truly has a limitation. Pierce is Kelly’s first love, but as his best friend, she knew well there was always another woman deep in his heart. Lexi Gilbert. The woman Pierce could never forget even if he had already been arranged to marry Kelly. *** Kelly finally realized their happy marriage of the last three years was just a beautiful dream when Pierce asked for a divorce just because Lexi returned. She could only be his best friend even if she was carrying his baby. *** Since their friendship had become a cage, Kelly chose to set him free, as well as the miserable herself. But why then, it was Pierce who became the one who refused to move on? To make matters worse, her devil stepbrother also domineeringly stepped in at the same time, asking her to be his. *** Her Prince Charming vs. Her Devil Stepbrother? How could Kelly save her heart in this battle of love and hate?
Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.
Five years of devotion ended when Brynn was left at the altar, watching Richard rush to his true love. Knowing she could never thaw his cold heart, Brynn walked away, ready to start over. After a night of drinking, she woke beside the last man she should ever cross-Nolan, her brother's arch-enemy. As she tried to escape, he caught her, murmuring, "You kissed me all night. Leaving isn't an option." The world saw Nolan as cold and distant, but with Brynn, he indulged her every desire. He even bought her a whole village and held her close, his voice low, deep, and endlessly tempting, his robe falling open to reveal his toned abs. "Want to feel it?"
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