Novel & Cerita Oxtail Soup Recipe

For a full decade, my billionaire husband and my best friend were locked in a vicious feud. Jordan Skinner had deliberately run Giselle Parson over with his car, shattering her leg. In retaliation, Giselle had smashed a baseball bat into his head, leaving him deaf in one ear. I rushed around to care for them and bitterly pleaded with them to stop fighting. Ironuton's high society laughed about it behind our backs—the all-powerful CEO and the proud heiress tearing the city apart, with pathetic little me trapped helplessly in the middle. After yet another heated argument, they abandoned me on a remote mountain during a camping trip. A passing drifter found me and brutally assaulted me. Wh

She dragged a bleeding stranger off the streets of East London when she was twelve years old. She cleaned his wounds, fed him cheap soup, and told him to stop acting like royalty before she threw him back outside. By morning, he was gone without a trace. She forgot about him. He never forgot about her. Eirlys Whitmore grew up learning how to survive on scholarship money, secondhand coats, and stubbornness alone. Brilliant and emotionally guarded, she has spent her entire life keeping people at a careful distance. When she earns early acceptance into the prestigious Blackthorn Dominion University at sixteen, she believes it is purely the result of her own hard work. She has no ide

On the night before Valentine's Day, my boyfriend Adrian said he wanted to make up for the proposal I never got. Five months pregnant, I happily went to the cabin he'd booked. When I arrived, I realized it was the new mountain campground owned by Celeste, the woman he'd never gotten over. At dinner, Celeste brought over a pot of mushroom soup and said it was especially nourishing for pregnant women. After I finished it, I vomited until I was dehydrated and ended up in the hospital. My face broke out in a rash. The beauty product launch scheduled for the next day had to be canceled, and the breach-of-contract penalty nearly crushed me. My manager, Jenna, posted a public statement on my

At midnight, Marvin Cooper throws a confession form at my face. The sharp edge of the paper cuts the corner of my eye, and bright red blood begins to seep out. He barks, "Alyssa hit someone with her car. You have a similar build to her. Go to the police station and take the blame." His tone leaves no room for argument, as if he is casually asking me to make him a late-night snack. His first love, Alyssa Evans, hides behind him and tugs pitifully at his sleeve. "But Marvin, if Ms. Huston goes to jail, who's going to make the nourishing soup for you?" Marvin lets out a disdainful snort and looks at me with contempt. "She's just a piece of trash from an orphanage. She should be honored to t

"Jump. You love me to death, don't you? Didn't you say you'd do anything for me?" Ethan Hart wanted me to throw myself off the observation deck of the tallest tower downtown, live, in front of the millions of people watching the broadcast. I stood on the wrong side of the railing. Below me, traffic streamed through the streets and neon flickered in the distance. His friends clapped and cheered. Vivian Lane laughed softly and curled herself against his arm. Ethan's grin turned vicious. "Come on, don't waste everyone's time. Jump, and I'll marry you." He'd made me a promise once. Finish a hundred of his demands, and he would marry me. When his company was circling bankruptcy, he told me

Ethan and I met at a soup kitchen in the slums. We were fighting over half a moldy bread roll. I only learned his story from other people later. His father was the head of Lorencio's largest crime family, killed in a bloody power struggle from within. His mother took a payout and vanished. My father was an accountant for another family. He was framed for cooking the books and shot dead. Same story, same wound. That was what brought us together. We clawed our way up from a crumbling slum to the marble halls of the Lorencio crime families, until finally Ethan took his seat as Don of the Valeria Family. Nine years of marriage. No church. No proposal. Not even a proper cake. Then one day,

On Christmas Eve, I giddily wait for my husband, Hunter Gibson, to come home while nursing my eight-month pregnancy. Unexpectedly, Hunter bursts through the front door with his childhood friend, Winter Jones, in his arms. I attempt to help him out, only to get shoved to the floor instead. My belly bumps into a corner of the coffee table, causing pain to shoot up my nerves. Cold sweat soon beads on my forehead, and yet Hunter doesn't even spare me another glance. "Get out of my way! Someone drugged Winnie's drink at the bar! If I don't purge the poison out of her, she'll die!" As I shield my belly, I dig out my phone. "I'll call an ambulance for her—" But Hunter snatches my phone away be

My mom has been brainwashing me with her "quid pro quo" rule. Apparently, I must work hard in earning money just to get whatever I want. A round of doing the dishes earns me 50 cents. Mopping the floor once grants me one dollar. If I get a full score in my exams, that'll be five dollars. In order to buy a pair of white sneakers that I had had my eye on for a long time, I spent three months picking up trash from the streets. I lived like a maid who was paid on one-time services in this home. When I was a high school senior, I fainted during my homeroom period due to long periods of malnutrition. Even though my doctor suggested to my mom to pay attention to my nutrient intake, she began