How Does Afro-Bets 1,2,3 Teach Numbers To Kids?

Sophie Mack, a 19-year-old resilient and dedicated child of a zealot parish man, raised by a nanny turned stepmother after the death of her mother from birth. She not only faced betrayal by her stepsister, but her boyfriend of five years drugged her, then she had a one-night stand with a stranger, resulting in triplets.   Elliot Harrington, a 26-year-old shrewd billionaire, wakes up in a hotel room to find himself wrapped around a beautiful girl.  Before he checks out of the hotel room, he leaves the girl with a bundle of cash. Later, he sends his investigator to find the girl he slept with, who mistakes Sophie for Olivia, Sophie's step-sister.   Five years later, Sophie, now a renowned financial analyst, returns to New York and starts working at the prestigious Harrington Group, where Elliot is president. Little does she know, her triplets embark on a mission—to uncover the identity of their elusive father.  *** "Owen, did you hear what that man said? He said you looked like his boss. Can the boss be our daddy?" Nathan said, looking at Owen, who had already started working devotedly on his laptop. "We can't be sure of that. But we can still make him candidate 1. The point is helping Mummy find Daddy," replied Isabel, the only girl of the triplets.   "I found him—his boss—and I guess I kind of resemble him. I have his eyes and ears." Owen said with a raised brow. "See, Nathan, you have his hair. But Isabel, you don't resemble Dad, not even Mom; who do you resemble?"  "Who told you his dad? We are not even sure he is our dad; it's just candidate 1." ***  Will Candidate 1 prove to be the missing link, or is there another layer to the mystery that even the triplets couldn't foresee?

After finding out her husband has been and is cheating on her, Diana meets with a terrible accident on her way from a night club party, where she had gone to drown away her sorrow. When she wakes up few weeks later, she loses her memories and was unable to tell who she was. "Ma'am, you're weeks pregnant and though lost your memories due to the accident" the Doctor stated. How she got pregnant she didn't know? Who she was, she didn't know. Six years later, After rehabilitation, she returns back to the city with her triplets and meets her ex husband whom she no longer recognizes. Now, Her husband is set to win her back as well as her triplets but, her triplets has a striking resemblance with the president General.

One drunken night changed everything. Seeking comfort, she ended up in the arms of a handsome stranger, only to flee at dawn, leaving nothing behind but her name. Five years later, she’s back, but with three adorable, genius children who are the spitting image of someone famous. When she lands a job at the world’s most powerful corporation, she comes face-to-face with her new boss: the cold, ruthless CEO who happens to look exactly like her kids! Shock turns to chaos when the triplets point at him and ask, “Mommy, why does this man look just like us?”

Triplets girls Jeane, Maria and lindy have to pay their parents debt or pay with their lives. Desperate, they recruited for a deadly sex game anchored by powerful and wealthy triplets Chad, klein and Thane Macmiller. 10 girls, 10 days to pleasure the Triplets boys, in exchange for 1million dollars to one winner. Will jeane and her sisters succeed or is there something unexpected waiting for them in the competition? This book contains strong language, rated 18 scenes and practices that some may consider offensive. PS: This is a short story of less than 50, 000 words and less than 50 chapters.

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

When my mother won a million dollars from a lottery ticket, she prepared an envelope for each of her three children. After we opened them, my younger brother and younger sister each found a bank card inside. But from my envelope, two 1-dollar coins clinked onto the floor. Seeing me freeze, a trace of unease flickered across Mother's face. "Cassian," she said hesitantly, "Logan and Sienna suffered a lot growing up because your father passed away so early. So I gave each of them 500 thousand dollars as compensation. "You're the eldest son—like a father to them. Don't fight with them over this, okay?" I glanced down at the faded down jacket I had worn for years, the fabric so worn that it had lost its color. Then, my eyes drifted to my younger brother's limited-edition sneakers and to the designer bag slung over my sister's shoulder. Mother seemed to have forgotten that when Father died, I had only been eight. I smiled faintly. "Alright. I won't fight them for it." Hearing this, Mother let out a long breath of relief. The next second, my voice turned cold. "Then I won't fight for the responsibility of supporting you in your old age either."