Ginny Miller

"Dad? Tell me it's not true! You didn't steal the painting from Mr. Miller, did you?" asked Rebecca almost in a whisper, her body trembling violently, she was not ready to hear the answer. "I'm sorry Becky, I'm so sorry..." Rebecca sat limply on the floor, unable to believe what she had just heard. "Okay, that's enough! You've heard it clearly, right, Ms. Beckett? Your father will pawn you to me until he could return the painting that he stole from me! John, take her!" interrupted James Miller, the billionaire whose painting was stolen by William Becket, Rebecca's father. From that day on, Rebecca's life was no longer the same, she had to give up her freedom by living with James Miller and serving all his needs. At first, everything was going fine until one day James Miller found out that William Beckett was collaborating with a Russian mafia in the theft of his painting and had absolutely no intention of returning the painting to him. He became very angry and began to make Rebecca's 'life' a threat. But one drunken night turned things upside down...

Betrayed and imprisoned, Althea's only solace was the promise of revenge against Oscar Williams, the man she loved but whom had ruined her life. Then, she met him - a enigmatic figure who offered her a chance at freedom and vengeance. But as she worked to unravel the threads of Oscar's deceit, Althea began to realize that nothing was as it seemed. The truth she sought was a mirage, and the lies she uncovered threatened to destroy everything she thought she knew about herself. Now, Althea must confront the darkness within herself and face the ultimate question. "What happens when the lies you've believed are more comforting than the truth?"

“I would like to introduce you all to the person who will be overseeing this project, our new project manager, Jenna Anderson.” Being followed by the students and teachers clapping their hands, which was then followed by the click-clacking sound of high heels on wooden floors, and my eyes widened as my heart started the pound with surprise and anticipation at what my eyes were seeing next. Long, lean legs, a perfect ass wrapped up in a black pencil skirt. A blouse that hugged every perfect curve. Blonde hair that was right now up in a high ponytail instead of loose like it had been on New Year’s Eve. I couldn’t help but smile widely, believing that fate had intertwined our paths once again. The woman who had both haunted my dreams and intrigued me deeply was now in a project at my very own workplace. And even better, right now I also knew her name. Jenna Anderson. And now, I was happy to know that my parents did not raise a quitter in their firstborn son, because from the second I saw her, I knew that I would chase her, win her over, and make her mine, forever.

Mmm, yeah … That was the sound I heard one night when my mom’s new boyfriend was fucking her senseless through the thin walls of our house. Just two months after my dad left, Marcus moved in — tall, ripped, and dripping with raw, cocky confidence. From the very first day, when I opened the door in my tight tank top and caught him staring hungrily at my full, heavy tits and pointy nipples, I knew he was trouble. But nothing prepared me for the nights. Night after night, their room becomes a den of pure filth. The bed slams against the wall like a drum. Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air as he pounds into her — skin slapping loudly, her desperate moans turning into broken screams of “Yes, Daddy! Harder… give me that big cock!” while he growls back, “You love taking this dick, don’t you, you dirty little slut?” I lie in my bed just down the hall, panties soaked, thighs clenched, hating how much it turns me on. I try to resist. I really do. But soon my hand is sliding down my stomach, fingers circling my swollen clit as I picture myself in her place. I imagine Marcus’s strong hands gripping my hips, his thick, throbbing cock stretching me wide open, fucking me deeper than my mom could ever handle. I ride my vibrator furiously to the rhythm of their fucking, biting my pillow so they won’t hear me cum… but I always do. How long before I stop just listening… and let my mother’s boyfriend want me instead?

I step into his office, and he is already waiting behind the desk. His amber eyes lock onto mine the moment I enter—deep, intense, and unreadable, as if he is trying to reach something buried beneath everything I refuse to show. “You can’t work under me anymore, Ms. Robinson,” he says calmly. His voice is steady, controlled. Too controlled. I tilt my head slightly, pretending indifference. “Are you firing me, sir?” The word feels unfamiliar on my tongue, even now, like it carries a distance I’m not used to acknowledging. He exhales slowly and stands from his chair, closing the space between us just enough to make it harder to breathe. “I can’t continue pretending you don’t know what I want,” he replies. My fingers tighten at my side. I force myself to look away. “You know it’s not possible,” I say quietly. “You’re married.” And just like that, everything shifts. Because I know this conversation. I’ve lived it in silence long before today. Four years ago, he left to study abroad. He promised he would come back. He promised that what we had wasn’t over. So I waited. I built my life around that promise, holding on to the belief that love like ours didn’t simply end—it paused, it endured, it survived distance. We were each other’s first love. Or at least, I thought we were something that would never be replaced. But when he returned, he did not return alone. He returned as someone else’s husband. Now he stands in front of me again, no longer the boy I once knew, but a man shaped by time, choices, and consequences I was never part of. And yet, the way he looks at me tells me nothing between us has truly ended. He wants something from me. Something I am not sure I can give without losing myself in the process. And worse than that— A part of me is still waiting to find out what happens if I don’t walk away this time.

The city was overrun by zombies. My girlfriend, Callie Bernson, the team leader, had taken my best friend, Dan Harrington, and fled in our only armored vehicle, leaving me behind in the shelter to die. Outside, the scratching of claws against metal echoed through the corridors. The defensive barricades were already starting to fail. My heart sank into despair. I raised my gun to my temple, ready to end it quickly, when a stream of floating text suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [It’s hilarious. That cheating couple thinks they’re heading to Paradise, but that place has fallen. It’s packed with high-level zombies now.] [Don’t die, PC! The person in a coma in the shelter—the one your so-called best friend called dead weight and abandoned—is actually the only S-class ability user. Once she wakes up, she’ll wipe the floor with everything!] [Just you wait. When your buddy crawls back here in disgrace and finds the big boss awake, he will go to step in and steal the credit for saving her.] [Hurry up and die already, cannon fodder. I can’t wait for the tragic apocalypse romance between the best friend and the big boss.] I lowered the gun and sprinted toward the quarantine room. Inside, a woman lay on the bed, sleeping peacefully. I strode over and slapped her hard across the face. “Honey!” I shouted. “Time to get to work!”