Snake Wrapped Around Arm Drawing Novels & Stories

My father was the sole provider in our family. He had a food stand on the side of the road, where he worked every day under hot sun. I knew how difficult it was for my father, so when the school bully, Jimmy Anderson, pressed my head down the toilet, I did not fight back. When Jimmy asked me to treat him like he was a king, I did not refuse either. I was afraid that I would make Jimmy unhappy, and he would then cause trouble for my father. So, I tolerated it for many years. Before the SATs, I thought I would finally be free. However, Jimmy forced me to be an escort at a bar, and I was tortured to death by the client he assigned me. While I was being tortured, I saw someone that I would never have dreamed of being there through the gap in the private room door. I saw my father, who was usually dressed modestly. Yet, he was decked out in luxury clothing here. He looked wealthy, and everyone around him was fawning over him and pleasing him. Wearing a big smile on his face, my father had his arm around Jimmy, who had bullied me for three whole years. He told Jimmy that his future would be bright.

"I'm Aiden Hart's secretary!" I shrieked over the phone. "Calm down, Charlie. It can't be that bad." I heard amusement in Emily's voice. My roommate's attitude did nothing to soothe my nerves. "It's not bad; it's a disaster!" I convinced. "I can't work for someone as hot as him! I can't breathe around him!" I might have been on the verge of a panic attack. I was supposed to work for his father, the well-respected sixty-eight-year-old Alexander Hart, not his youngest son! This wasn't what I agreed to! Less than a month ago, my dear friend died while working at Hart Global Corporation as the CEO's secretary. Now, I was about to replace her while investigating the truth behind her death. I thought I was prepared to enter the snake's nest, but I clearly underestimated the enemy… Aiden Hart was the purest embodiment of my sexual fantasies, and believe me, after four sexless years, I had more than too many of them twirling inside my brain. Every day, I found my boss more and more alluring, and I could only protect my weak heart by repeating my newly created mantra... "Don't fall for Mr. Hart... Don't fall for Mr. Hart... Don't fall for Mr. Hart."

At the end of the year, I went to the spa and discovered a stranger had been using my VIP card. When I logged into my personal profile, the last three treatment records were not under my name. The preference section listed specific details about someone else. She was allergic to rose essential oil, preferred lavender, and her heating pad temperature could not exceed 108 degrees Fahrenheit. Her menstrual cycle fell around the 15th of each month, so no waist or abdomen treatments during that time. I stared at the screen, my palms turning cold. Only my husband, Zachary White, knew this password. At the time, he said he needed it to check the balance and renew my membership. I scrolled down and found a system note at the bottom: [Birthday treatment reserved for December 30, prepared according to Ms. Anderson's preferences.] Today was December 30. My phone vibrated. Zachary had sent a message: [Working late tonight. Won't be home.] Familiar laughter drifted from the hallway. Through the glass door, I watched Zachary walk into the adjacent room with his arm around a woman, the beautician hurrying forward to greet them. "Mr. White, we have Ms. Anderson's birthday treatment ready, just as you requested."

I go into business with my childhood friend, Ian Ziegler. The business is a success, earning 1.2 million dollars in profit. Ian gives me my share—a whopping 5,000 dollars. Noticing my dissatisfaction, Ian puts his arm around my girlfriend, Nina Foster, and tosses the keys to his Bentley onto the table. "What, is five grand too little for you? Fine. Since you're so broke, I'll give you a chance to turn things around for yourself. There's going to be a soccer game tonight. We're both going to place our bets. If you win, you can get all 1.2 million, plus my car. "But if you lose, your girlfriend's mine. You'll also have to get on your knees and lick my shoes right here in front of everyone." Everyone else in the room cackles gleefully, eager to watch me humiliate myself. Smirking, I nod. "Sure. I'll take that bet." These people have no idea that five years ago, I'd single-handedly taken down the Northwest Aravian illegal soccer betting circuit. I'd set a trap for a match-fixing syndicate, beating the crooks at their own game. I'd walked away from that life after that. But now, Ian has seriously decided to challenge me to a soccer bet?

"Are you sure you want to change the bride's name to Jasmine Shaw, Quinn?" Quinn Sullivan's voice was resolute. "Yes, I'm sure. Do as I say." She sat in silence for a long time after hanging up. She recalled what she saw after her engagement party. Her fiancé had his arms wrapped around another woman in a swaying car. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, looking like he couldn't bear to leave. Quinn didn't understand. She and Nicholas York had gone through so much to get to marriage. How could he cheat on her? Well, it didn't matter. She was willing to give him her blessings since he was in love with another woman. He could marry someone else, then. She would give him the wedding of his dreams.

"You like this, don't you?" His voice was dark velvet, wrapping around me, sinking under my skin. I swallowed hard, refusing to answer, but my body betrayed me-the sharp inhale, the way my lips parted, the way my thighs pressed together. He noticed. Of course, he did. He stepped closer, eliminating the space between us, his heat overwhelming. "Say it." I shook my head, a weak attempt at resistance. His fingers traced up my arm, slow, teasing, until they reached my throat. He didn't squeeze, didn't apply pressure-just let his touch linger there, making me hyperaware of my own racing pulse. "Liar," he murmured. I exhaled sharply. "You're too close." His lips brushed my ear, not quite a kiss, just a whisper of warmth. "And you're not stopping me."

Elise Thatcher took care of Kayden Anderson, a rich Billionaire who was in coma for three years. To make things easy for Elise to take care of Kayden, his grandma let them marry. Elise endured the harsh treatment from her in-laws for the sake of love, thinking she could melt his frozen heart. She hid her identity and healed Kayden until he could walk again. But when he recovered, he demanded a divorce coldly, bringing home his first love. Elise had enough. She forced him to sign the divorce papers and returned to claim her throne, becoming the most sought after Queen in the business world. Elise flung the papers at Kayden's face. Kayden glared at her in surprised. The people around them gasped in shock. How could Elise do this to Kayden, a multibillionaire and her husband?! "I've signed it. Don't worry. Jessie doesn't need to leave. I'll leave," Elise mocked as she walked pass them. However, Kayden grabbed ahold of her arm and pulled her back, his grip bruising and punishing. "Where do you think you're going? Kneel and apologize to Jessie!" "Apologize to her? For what?" Elise blinked her eyes innocently. She fought back a wince. Kayden was increasing his grip on her arm as if he wanted to break it. "For scaring her. You should treat her with respect," Elise burst out laughing, catching everyone off guard. Her heart felt like it was hit by a sledgehammer over and over again. "You want me, your legal wife to apologize to your mistress? Kayden, do you know what you're saying?"

Ever turned out to be that your Prince charming might not be whom or what you think he is? Chester Hunt is a reclusive billionaire with a devil-may-care attitude, living a double life as a coffee shop owner, so as to get away from under the control of his over bearing grand father. But there are more than just a few secrets wrapped around the family as a killer is linked to the chaos, and when the bodies start turning up, detective Tia is assigned to the case but then all evidence begin to point to the Hunt family and the reclusive billionaire whose double personality she has begun to fall in love with. The deeper they go into the case, the more they uncover. Will she ever discovered the lie? Will her emotions take over her duties? Who is the killer and what is the real face if Chester Hunt? This is love and war, if business and secrets and an age long grudge as the killer seems to be within this influential circle. Who is out to get who?

It was the day of our marriage. We were supposed to meet up at the City Hall, but my fiancee stood me up. I waited for her the whole day, and the only answer I got was a picture from her assistant. My girlfriend sat astride on his lap, and her arms were wrapped around his neck while they were locked in a deep kiss. "Sorry, Mr. Terraton. Sophie insisted on comforting me. You don't mind, do you?" I demanded answers from my girlfriend, but that only made her impatient. "He donated his blood to me. Yeah, I was with him, but so what? Man up, will you?" That killed any love I had for her, and I called my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend's sister. "Hey, Sylvie. Yeah, about your proposal. So will you marry me?"

I was the kind of girl everyone called hopelessly lovestruck. That day was no different from any other. I clung to my boyfriend’s arm, leaned in close, and shamelessly asked for a kiss like I always did. However, right before my lips touched his, a line of glowing comments drifted across my vision. They floated in the air like a livestream chat. [Can this side character wake up already? Can she not see the male lead avoided her the entire time? He hated clingy relationships like this.] [The kind of person who really suits him is the female lead. Someone gentle, patient, and understanding.] [Once the real female lead shows up, this annoying clingy girlfriend is definitely getting dumped.] My body froze. I slowly loosened my arms from around his neck. In the next second, he suddenly looked up at me. “Why’d you stop?”