Innocent Or Money Novels & Stories

Elle Smith is struggling. She's flat broke, in between jobs, and the only one providing for her nephew. The only job offer for her is stripping, and she's so desperate she might take it. Recommended by a friend, she then enters a strip club, where she catches the eye of Trevor Gomez, and she's not sure if that's a good thing. He's mysterious, handsome, and controlling. Then here comes Drake Saber; he is grumpy, strict, and protective. But when Elle’s life falls apart, she realizes that these two men might be the only ones who can keep her safe. Until when will she let her innocence last?

Abigail has always lived in pain—unloved at home, blamed for her father’s death, and trapped in a life that never felt like hers. When her mother remarries a wealthy man, she enters a new world that still doesn’t accept her. At university, her life shifts the moment she meets him. Alex. Arrogant, dangerous, and impossible to ignore—until she realizes the truth. He’s not just a stranger from a reckless encounter. He’s her stepbrother. Now bound by secrets, tension, and forbidden attraction, Abigail is caught between fear and desire, while enemies at school try to break her down. She should stay away. But some people are impossible to escape… even when they’re the ones you should fear most.

When my wife, Melanie Sanders, and I were on our way to undergo IVF treatment, we ended up losing our lives in a car crash. Then, we both get reborn at the same time. She complains to me, "I want nothing more than to become a mother! It's a shame that you can't impregnate me at all!" Hence, she gets married to a wealthy scion. Having lost my hope in Melanie, I decide to let her go. After that, I marry another woman and build a family with her. Soon, we lead a happy and comfortable life together. That is, until I end up meeting Melanie again in the future. As she lays her gaze on my daughter, she comments disdainfully, "Oh? So, you're a stepfather now! I suppose only an impoverished loser like you deserves to raise children who aren't of your own blood!" I gaze back at Melanie's daughter as well, a cold smirk curling on my lips. "I suppose the rich really know how to enjoy themselves. After all, your daughter isn't of your own blood, either." After that, I lead my daughter away while laughing joyously.

Because some obsessions are not loud. They whisper. And some sins do not destroy you all at once; they consume you slowly. Dorothy Kace was raised to be admired. As the daughter of a world-renowned Olympic icon, every aspect of her life has been carefully controlled—from the food she eats to the way she stands beneath the spotlight. But beneath the polished image is a lonely girl desperate to breathe. Then her mother marries Sebastien Dmitri. Her father's former best friend. A man of quiet power, sharp control, and unreadable intentions. Sebastien unsettles Dorothy in ways she cannot explain. He sees the cracks beneath her perfection. The bruises, hidden beneath ballet ribbons. The fear behind her obedience. The rebellion, growing underneath her perfect image. Dorothy knows she should hate him. And the more she resists him, the more dangerous their connection becomes.

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

you think i came all the way from paris to this small town of pakistan for what for three lacks " he smirked and looked towrds his men who laughed at that thought. "well clearly you did because if not what are you doing here then or wait did you wanted to have tour of this small town because i don,t see other reason of yours to be here . " this time she replied who were just standing there quitely from the beginning . "well darling " he came close to her and said "i came for my bride , i came for you " he said while touching her cheek with his thumb. larib khan a straightforward ,religious , cute , innocent , decent girl . she seems calm but if someone make her angry it will be their last day . but if they are on her good side she loves from her heart and can give her life for her loved ones king Xavier albert thomson, he has a body like greek god he is just like a shell ,hard from outside but from the inside he is soo soft but only few people knows that . Noone dare to call him by name who did they are 12 feet beneath the ground . the most merciless mafia king who runs mafia and also is the ceo of the most top biggest company of paris ,he kill first and ask question later . HE never knew he could love but after seeing her it was love for first sight or lust of having her he doesn,t know but he knows one thing . "larib khan is his only his even if he have to force her to be his or kill the world to have her but no one takes what is his from him not even her .

In our life we go through many choices , some are easy and some are hard but it's we who make the choices . But what will happen if you have two choices, " Money or Love " yeah it's easy to choose love but is it easy to stand with it for a lifetime ? The story revolves around this question " Money or Love " . Shikha, a 16 year old girl, runs away from her house just to get her parent's attention and maybe love too but her life turns upside down when she meets a guy who was living his life just with his wife and daughter's memories . Her argue to know his story leads her to a wonderful journey of love , a journey where there was a poor orphan boy and a rich dad's princess . The love they shared and the memories they made , just like a couple which the god made . But as it said love is beautiful but not easy , something happens in the guy's life which makes him alone for his lifetime . He kept it a secret from the world and buried it somewhere in his heart .

Clara stood in the middle of the glass room with her transparent clothes, holding back her embarrassment while trying to cover her body with both hands. There were cheers from outside the glass room and naughty looks from the hungry men. "1 million," "5 million," "7 million," Everyone placed a bet on Clara at a fairly low price, tears kept going to roll down Clara's rosy cheeks. Her body was almost shaky and she couldn't meet everyone's eyes, she was like a kitten amidst a hungry lion. "50 million," A man's voice that surprised her made their eyes meet. A most dangerous mafia chief raises his betting cards and shocks everyone. Steven looked at Clara with a grin, as if he was ready to eat Clara alive. His eyes were sharp like a wolf's, and it was him.

On the third day after our divorce was finalized, my ex-wife, Georgie Anderson, sent me a text message. [Why haven’t you transferred your salary from this month to me?] I thought she was joking. [We’re already divorced.] [So? What does it matter if we’re divorced? You should transfer nineteen thousand dollars from your twenty-thousand-dollar income, just like you did before. The remaining one thousand dollars will be your pocket money. When you were unemployed, I was the one who took care of you. Now that we’re divorced, you’re turning your back on me?] I stared at her text messages and fell silent for a really long time. Throughout our three-year marriage, I gave her nineteen thousand dollars out of my twenty-thousand-dollar salary. She was responsible for "budgeting" our household expenses. However, she spent my money on her civil service exam, afternoon teas with her besties, and even on her study partner, whom I’d never met. As for me, I handled all the house chores—cooking dinner, mopping the floors and doing the laundry. But when I took a little time after work to game, she would yell at me for being lazy. She was demanding money from me even after we were divorced. Her reason was that I might spend the money without thinking. I blocked her number. Three seconds later, she sent me a text message from another phone number. [You’ll regret this. I’m trying to help you one last time.] I laughed. ‘Helping me?’ I thought. Nobody had ever helped me in the past three years.

Every tear I shed feeds his ego. Every whimper, his pride. Every bruise he leaves behind, his silent claim over me. He takes me cold. Leaves me ruined. And I wait - quiet, breathless, for the next time he comes back to break me again. He thinks he has me in the palm of his hand. Thinks I’m nothing without him. A fragile wife, meek, obedient. A weakness he never needed. I let him believe it. I never tried to break the illusion. As long as I have his hands on me, As long as his shadows reach for me, That’s enough. But in the dark, daggers roam. And with every sound my heels make, they fall. He still thinks I’m glass, But he hasn’t heard me shatter.