How To Repair Scratches On Pocketbook Leather?

"I, Amelie Ashwood, Reject you, Tate Cozad, as my mate. I REJECT YOU!" I screamed. I took the silver blade dipped in my own blood to my mate mark. Amelie only ever wanted to live a simple life out of the spotlight of her Alpha bloodline. She felt she had that when she found her first mate. After years together, her mate was not the man he claimed to be. Amelie is forced to perform the Rejection Ritual to set herself feel. Her freedom comes at a price, one of which is an ugly black scar."Nothing! There's nothing! Bring her back!" I scream with every part of my being. I knew before he said anything. I felt her in my heart say goodbye and let go. At that moment, an unimaginable pain radiated to my core. Alpha Gideon Alios loses his mate, on which should be the happiest day of his life, the birth of his twins. Gideon doesn't have time to grieve, left mateless, alone, and a newly single father of two infant daughters. Gideon never lets his sadness show as it would be showing weakness, and he is the Alpha of the Durit Guard, the army and investigative arm of the Council; he doesn't have time for weakness. Amelie Ashwood and Gideon Alios are two broken werewolves that fate has twisted together. This is their second chance at love, or is it their first? As these two fated mates come together, sinister plots come to life all around them. How will they come unite to keep what they deem the most precious safe?

As I secured the safety rope, I discovered that the metal clip had been replaced with a flimsy plastic ring. My girlfriend, already on the soft ladder, dismissed my concern casually. "Ryan has got a ton of luggage. One clip isn't enough to keep it secure, so I gave him yours. Just wait for the next trip." In desperation, I pointed to the floodwaters surging past my chest. "But I can't swim!" "Cut the drama, okay?" she huffed. "You're a swimming champ. What's the big deal about treading water for a bit? Ryan is related to my boss, and if anything happens to him, my promotion is down the drain. Can't you be reasonable?" "Is his luggage more important than my life?" I shot back, lunging for the ladder. But she kicked me away. "I've checked. The water won't rise too fast. At worst, it'll reach your neck. You'll survive." Refusing to argue further, I watched the floodwaters rage higher and quickly pressed a special emergency beacon on my wrist.

When Dexter Welch, a security guard who works in the residential area, sees me driving my pink Toyota Corolla everywhere, he's very certain that I'm a sugar baby who's being backed by her own sugar daddy. On the first day, I see one word getting carved into the car hood. It says "bitch". I merely give the hood a wipedown without uttering a word. Later on, I swap out the current SD card of my dashcam to an SD card that has a 512 GB memory. On the second day, my car windows get smashed in. When I go over to the property management office to check the security footage, the front desk agent tells me that the security camera overseeing my car "happens" to be broken. Dexter leans against the desk with a grin on his face. "If that car of yours is ruined, then so be it. Tell your sugar daddy to buy you another one." I crouch down and take a picture of the damage. Then, I save it into a folder called "evidence" in my phone. On the third day, two of my tires have gone flat. When I bend down to pick up a spare tire, Dexter hugs me from behind all of a sudden. He murmurs into my ear, "What's so good about sleeping with an old codger? Why don't you date me instead? I'm young and strong—" That's when I grab a wrench and smash it right into his arm. As Dexter nurses his injured arm, he glares at me. "How dare you lay a finger on me! Go ahead and lodge a report, then! My uncle's the property manager here! What can you do about me, hmm?" I silently note down Dexter's work ID without saying anything. On the fourth day, I drive another pink car back to the apartment. As soon as Dexter notices the flash of pink in its usual parking slot, he smiles as he exits the guardhouse. Then, he pulls out a key from his pocket and scratches my car with all his strength. An older gentleman who happens to be walking his dog nearby freezes in his tracks. He sounds so startled that his voice actually cracks. "Have you gone nuts? Do you know the model of the car you've just scratched? That's a top-tier Rolls-Royce!"

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll unblock you next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

“Who the hell changed the screw tolerance by 0.007 mm?” “I did. Is there a problem?” Kimmy Zabel, our department’s “good-luck charm” and full-time slacktivist, did not even look up from her compact mirror, where she was carefully applying lip gloss. “It just didn’t look right, so I tweaked it. Do you really have to yell at me?” The production line had been running on the wrong spec for twenty-four hours. I hit the emergency stop. Keeping my voice steady took some effort. “These parts no longer meet export standards. If we miss tomorrow’s shipment, even a month of overtime wouldn’t cover the penalties.” “It’s one tiny number. You’re being so dramatic!” Kimmy snapped her makeup case shut. “Anyway, it’s New Year’s Eve. I’ve got a date. I’m not staying here to suffer with you people.” Before she even reached the door, I gestured to the staff to pull the shutters down. “For precision components like these, one number translates into a million-dollar loss. You can take these defective units and explain them to the regulators.”

Love was never safe. But with him... it’s beautifully dangerous. Soren has never known peace—only pain. Abused by a father who broke him. Abandoned by a mother who vanished without a backward glance. And betrayed by the man he once called home. Now, he doesn’t believe in love. Doesn’t believe in rescue. He survives. That’s all. Then Travian enters his world. Cold eyes. Quiet power. A patience that feels like a threat. He doesn't ask for Soren’s trust—he claims it. Slowly. Roughly. Completely. Travian sees the fire beneath Soren’s scars. And he wants it all. But just as Soren begins to let him in, the past strikes back—vicious and unforgiving. Kidnapped. Caged. Forgotten. Soren is thrown into the hands of the monsters he thought he escaped. But Travian isn’t the type to walk away. He’ll rip through hell, drenched in blood, to bring Soren back. Because Travian doesn’t just want his heart. He wants his rage, his darkness, his surrender. And this time, love won’t save them. It’ll destroy everything in its path.