Where To Read NTA-ICAR: AIEEA - PG Entrance Exam Guide Online?

I was the biological daughter of the Stone Family. With my gossip-tracking system, I played the part of a meek, obedient girl on the surface, but underneath, I would strike hard when it counted. What I didn't realize was that someone could hear my every thought. "Even if you're our biological sister, Alicia is the only one we truly acknowledge. You need to understand your place," said my brothers. 'I must've broken a deal with the devil in a past life to end up in the Stone Family this time,' I figured. My brothers stopped dead in their tracks. "Alice is obedient, sensible, and loves everyone in this family. Don't stir up drama by trying to compete for attention." I couldn't help but think, 'Well, she's sensible enough to ruin everyone's lives and loves you all to the point of making me nauseous.' The brothers looked dumbfounded.

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

Alejandro, the son of the Mexican biggest gangster hid in Istanbul from his rivals where he met Ceyda, a teenage Turkish girl who was his tour guide. They fell in love with each other but his father threatened Ceyda and ordered her to disappear from Alejandro's life because he wanted Alejandro to marry the daughter of his business partner. His father created scenarios that made Alejandro violent and after his father's death, Alejandro took over his father's position and found out Ceyda eventually and started torturing her for his revenge until the truth was revealed.

Okay so this is for everyone whose imagination has never once behaved itself. You know who you are. To my fellow freaks who read with one hand on the book and the other doing you know what (wink wink) and to the innocent ones who are absolutely lying about being innocent. This is your safe space, your no judgment zone and your new favorite material for everything in between. We don't talk about what we do with good books and I'm here to make sure you have them deeply inked and ready. You're welcome and I'm not sorry!! ✦ Warning This collection contains dark themes, such as dubcon, violence, slapping, degradation, anal, MMF, and more. All characters depicted in these stories are above 18 years of age.

My parents were renowned educators, celebrated as top-tier teachers who mentored countless high achievers. Yet, I was the black sheep of the family, consistently bringing home failing grades. After yet another gentle reminder from my homeroom teacher, my mom erupted in frustration. "How could I have given birth to such a foolish child? You only exist to torture me!" She disappeared for three days. When she returned, she brought a girl with her. "From today on, Cora is my real daughter. You are forbidden to call us Mom or Dad ever again. Get out. Only when you can pass your exams will you be worthy of being my daughter!" Our next encounter was at the hospital, during the school staff's annual physical check. The dean spotted me, speaking. "Renee, isn't this your daughter? Sherry works here now! That means Cora's illness can be treated. Ask her to introduce you to the new director!" My mother's gaze landed on my white coat and shifted from shock to irritation. "She changed jobs and didn't even bother to tell me?" I discreetly covered the badge pinned to my chest, trying to conceal my status. I was now Evie Coffey, the director of Obstetrics and Gynecology.

My family's company was on the brink of bankruptcy—its cash flow severed, the entire operation teetering on collapse. My fiancé, Andy Goor, was prepared to lend me money to keep things afloat. Just as I was about to say yes, a barrage of floating comments swept across my vision. [Don't agree—no matter what you do!] [The company's bankruptcy and cash flow crisis are all part of Andy's scheme!] [He's after your family's assets. If you accept, your whole family will end up sleeping under bridges for the rest of your lives!] [Your father will die after jumping off a building because he can't afford treatment. Your mother will be beaten to death by debt collectors. And you—you'll be sold into a nightclub. Just thinking about it is tragic!] A cold smile curved my lips. Without hesitation, I reached out and took the bank card Andy had sent over. Because in my previous life, I had believed those very comments and refused his help. After that, the company slid into bankruptcy, beyond saving. My parents were driven to their deaths, both forced to jump from buildings. And I was sold by creditors to an underground clinic, where my heart and kidneys were harvested before my body was dismembered. Only after I died, my soul drifting aimlessly, did I learn the truth—this had all been orchestrated by my so-called best friend, Chelsea Beatriz. Every single one of those comments had been fabricated by her. Disillusioned with me, Andy turned his investment to her company instead. She took my place—effortlessly stepping into my life—and married him. This time… everything I went through? Someone else gets to carry that weight now.