Can You Play Monopoly Online With Friends?

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.

Theodore Thatcher is a man used to getting what he wants—money, power, control. As a self-made billionaire, There's one thing he can't easily claim—his inheritance. To secure it, he must marry before turning 30. With no interest in commitment, Theodore decides to solve the problem his way—by making a deal with Nadia Vaccaro. Nadia, desperate to help her sick brother and pay off mounting medical bills, has no choice but to agree when Theodore offers her a proposition she can’t refuse: pretend to be his wife, and in return, he’ll cover her brother’s medical expenses. It’s a cold, transactional arrangement. No emotions. No complications. Just a game. But as their lives intertwine, the lines between what’s real and what’s fake begin to blur. Nadia finds herself drawn to Theodore, the man who holds her fate in his hands, while Theodore discovers that his feelings toward Nadia might not be as indifferent as he thought. With everything at stake, Nadia must decide: will she remain in Theodore’s game, or will she walk away before it consumes her? And Theodore, for all his wealth and control, must face the truth of what he’s willing to sacrifice to keep the woman who has become more than just a pawn in his game.

My coworkers and I are forcibly dragged into a bizarre game with the initial title displayed as "War of the Plants". Everyone crowds around to choose camps or safe houses with abundant water resources. I am the only one who picks a plastic apartment in the desert with no water or electricity. My female supervisor mocks me in front of everyone, saying I must be out of my mind. No one is willing to team up with me, and they even bet I won't last three days. When choosing abilities, everyone rushes for practical powers like spatial storage or metal control. I, however, choose reverse photosynthesis that allows me to gain energy from air humidity. Everyone immediately mutes me in the game. Clearly, no one wants to hear my desperate cries for help later. But when the system revokes team permissions and administrator functions, everyone is stunned. The game's name is reset to "Magnet Apocalypse".

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”

As soon as I graduated from university, I suggested to my three roommates that we should rent a place together. The place I found was near our workplace, and it was cheap as well. It was much better than the house they used to rent in the suburbs. During the first three months of renting the place together, everything seemed fine. One day, I got off work early and heard them talking in the living room. "I did some research online. The rent of the houses in this area is at least 2 grand a month. But ours is only 800 dollars a month. How about we rent the master bedroom out for 800 dollars? That way, we won't have to pay any rent." "Alright, I'm in! Why does Jessica always get to sleep in the master bedroom? Even if she covered all the bills of this house, how much would that cost anyway?" "I've had it with her arrogant attitude. Thinking of her being homeless makes me want to laugh!" I laughed inwardly. 'You want to see me homeless? But I'm the landlord!'

The day before the semester began, my childhood friend Daniel Carter asked if he could borrow my private jet. Thinking he'd finally changed his ways, I agreed without a second thought. A moment later, he transferred a single dollar, calling it rent because he couldn't stand the thought of freeloading. The quirky amount said more than words ever could. I smiled and accepted it. On the first day of school, I kept things low-key, taking a cab back to campus. But when I arrived, there it was, my private jet parked right in the middle of the quad. The jet had been decked out in bubblegum pink, and students crowded around, their eyes shining with envy. My heart leapt. For once, I thought Daniel had finally figured it out. Beaming, I braced myself for his surprise. But as I drew closer, my smile froze. Sitting barefoot in the pilot's seat, my seat, was Clara West, the campus' queen bee.