Luncheon Of The Boating Party

A parent in my son's preschool group chat tagged me out of nowhere. "Theo's dad, your son's lunches always look pretty nice. Starting tomorrow, pack one for my daughter too." "I'm not asking for free food. I'll give you ten dollars a day. That adds up. You can make a little extra on the side." I stared at the message, almost laughing from how absurd it was. My son has severe food sensitivities and a fragile stomach. Every ingredient in his meals is specially sourced, and a single lunch costs far more than five hundred dollars to prepare. And this man thought ten dollars could buy it? I replied with two words: "Not happening." The next day, my son came home crying. His lunch had been taken by another child, and the teacher had scolded him for being selfish. Fine. Since they wanted to push this far, I would show them exactly how far I could go.

I knew perfectly well that people from the Emirates do not eat pork. Yet this time, I watched in silence as my husband's childhood sweetheart insisted on placing a pork dish on the table. In fact, I even supported her decision. In my past life, when our company hosted a welcome banquet for powerful investors from the Emirates, she had been desperate to flaunt her cooking. Against all reason, she forced a pork dish onto the menu. I stopped her then. I explained that pork was forbidden by religious belief, and that offending the investors could cost us everything. If they withdrew their funding, the company's finances would collapse overnight. She took my warning as jealousy. In a fit of rage, she ran out of the banquet hall and was struck by a car, leaving her in a permanent vegetative state. I thought my husband would break down. Instead, he remained calm, stayed through the dinner, and secured the investment in surprisingly calmness. The truth revealed itself later. After the company went public, he brought me abroad under the guise of business, only to drag me onto a medical ship in international waters. As my kidney was cut from my body, I cried and asked him why. His answer came with a slap. "If you hadn't been jealous back then... If you hadn't tried to sabotage her, she wouldn't have ended up like that." I died in agony on the operating table. After my death, he used the money from selling my organs to cure his beloved childhood sweetheart, and the two of them went on to live rich, comfortable lives together. And then I opened my eyes again, back to the very day she decided to serve pork to the clients.

I'm the type who has a ton of allergies. That's why my family has specifically hired a nutritionist to help prepare and monitor my meals while paying her a salary of 7,500 dollars per month. During my lunch break, the new intern, Julia Hall, suddenly tells me, "Emma, the food that you bring to work looks very healthy! You can prepare another portion for me from now on! "It so happens that I'm on a diet as well. Think of it as me going down the journey of dieting with you. I'll pay you five dollars per meal. You can earn quite a lot of money from this side gig, you know?" I'm flabbergasted when I hear Julia's words. The ingredients meant for my meals are specifically flown in using private jets. Not to mention, my family pays the nutritionist a lucrative salary. Five dollars can't even cover the transportation fees needed for my meals! I shake my head and turn Julia down on the spot. I refuse to give her a chance to use any plot holes against me. But the next day at noon, I've just left my desk to refill my water bottle. When I return, I realize that Julia has already taken my lunchbox away and has shared the food with the other colleagues while chatting animatedly with them. My lips curl into a cold smirk. Since Julia insists on taking advantage of me, then I might as well teach her a lesson she will never forget.

In this canal town, if a guy wants to woo his sweetheart, he needs to build a boat with his own hands and make it his wedding boat. On my seventh year dating anniversary, my boyfriend, Declan Johnson, hosts a launch ceremony for his new boat. Those who are present at the ceremony cheer loudly. I can feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. When I'm about to board the boat, I hear Declan's friend murmuring to him, "Are you seriously giving the boat to Paige? Aren't you worried that Raelynn might pick a fight with you?" "Precisely! Raelynn is a temperamental one! What if you crossed a line?" The next moment, Declan's voice rings out—casual yet confident. "No way. Raelynn is completely wrapped around my finger. After all, she's madly in love with me. Besides, in this town, the fact that a woman doesn't get married by the age of 28 makes her a hag. There's no way she has the guts to start anything. "At the end of the day, I'm giving Raelynn a marriage certificate and Paige a wedding boat. This is a fair decision. In a way, it… it helps me to put an old regret to rest." So, Declan still has regrets just by marrying me, huh? Apparently, I'm also wrapped around his finger, and I'll become a hag soon. Those words hurt my ears. My throat closes up slightly, but I don't cry at all. Instead, I pull out my phone and send a text. "I'll listen to you, Mom. Since I'm already 28 years old, I'm no longer waiting for him."

Sixteen years of marriage. Two children. A shared world built on lies, and now she knows. Devon never wanted this fate. Never wanted to find his mate, not when he’d already built a life with a woman he chose… And one he’s now destined to lose. When secrets unravel and truths claw their way to the surface, Eleanor doesn’t break. She burns. And Devon? He must choose between the love he built… And the soul that was never his to deny. But time is running out. The hunters are closing in, and the one who owns his heart is out there, unprotected. “You will reject him, Devon. You will renounce this bond.” “I can’t,” he says. Not now. Not ever. This isn’t just the collapse of a marriage. It’s the start of a war— Between the man he was… and the beast he cannot hide.

I applied for a popular online job as a personal chef. I thought I'd be cooking simple, home-style meals, but I quickly found myself trapped in a world of surprises. The food they were craving was me, served on a platter. The wealthy women were looking for excitement, torturing me night after night. But what they didn't realize was, the real thrill came when the dogs turned on each other.