Squidward Side Table Novels & Stories

I was on vacation with my mother at our country vineyard when a message arrived from Ava, my husband's personal secretary. He was the new Don of the Falcone family. The photo showed a woman, bruised and naked, curled up on the floor of a cold cellar. It was followed by a voice message, her tone arrogant: "Helen, is this what you peasants do? Claw your way out of the mud just to leech off the Don?" "Don Lorenzo just acquired this estate, and you have the nerve to let your blind, ill-mannered mother wander in here to freeload? As the Don's personal secretary, it's my job to uphold the Falcone family's dignity." "This is the price for trespassing on the Don's estate!" I froze, my eyes lifting to the other side of the long table where my mother was sipping her red wine, perfectly safe. I zoomed in on the photo. The moment I saw the details, my heart seized. On a pale hand was a familiar ring. It was the heirloom the Falcone Madre never took off. I immediately dialed Ava's number. "Ava, are you insane? That's Lorenzo's mother!" A careless, almost flirtatious laugh came from the other end of the line. "The Don may consider you his property, but he never agreed to take in your dirt-poor family."

“Please…please…don’t….” My breathing heavy and loud, were I aggressively gripped on the table not wanting to let go. He was fucking inserting it, and hitting it in the right spot, I fucking enjoyed it when he fuck me in this position, bent fully on the table with him banging me from behind. “You fucking girl.” He slapped hard on my ass that it immediately had my pussy convulsing with squirt. None stop he was ruining me from that angle whereas I was trying to hush down my voice, after all we were in his office. How scandalous would it be if someone should find us like this, me half naked with my professors pants dropped to the ground, were his dick was connected to my pussy from behind. “Ahhh….Mr Grey” I choked on the moan, Christian had his hand on my neck pressing me harder on the table, I couldn’t even breathe with the amount of pleasure he was bloating me with. Yeah, I was fucking my professor, an aspiring nun was committing such a brutal sin in her professors office. He turned me into this sex animal who was at his beg and call. Did I enjoy it? Yeah I fucking loved it but it was soon going to get me ruined, sooner then I expected.

I finally recovered my sight. Just as I was about to tell my parents about it, a slip of paper on the table caught my attention. "Don't tell your parents you've recovered your sight."

A story where a maid fantasizes about her boss. Comes to work but can’t focus and sees only him. Then she gives him a hint on what she wants with a note on his table .then the whole scenario just excalates

I could see the countdown above a person’s head when they had already decided to leave their partner. The day my father’s countdown hit zero, he slapped a lawyer’s letter on the breakfast table and walked out on my mother and me. The day my best friend’s countdown hit zero, she finally threw her parasite of a boyfriend out of her apartment and changed the locks before sunset. That was why I’d always been terrified of seeing a countdown above my fiancé, Lucian Bellandi. Luckily, for seven years by his side, the space above his head had stayed clean. Lucian was the youngest Don the Bellandi family had ever seen. He owned the docks, the casinos, and half the South Side’s dirty money, yet he saved every soft part of himself for me. Until last month, when he picked me up after a family auction. I looked up and saw blood-red numbers stabbing into my eyes. [702 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.] Less than two years. My heart tightened like a cold hand had closed around it. I started searching for an answer like a woman losing her mind. Had I done something wrong? Then, during a blizzard by the lake, we ran into Mia Crane at the back entrance of the Bellandi Hotel. Lucian had just brought her into his charity foundation as a new assistant. Snow clung to her hair and lashes. She was shivering from head to toe, but her smile was bright and painfully innocent. Lucian pulled a black silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her. His face was calm. There was nothing openly improper in the gesture. But in that exact second, the countdown above his head jumped. [327 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes.] More than three hundred days, gone. And I knew I had found the reason.

At the dinner table, my wife's best friend suddenly speaks to her in Lytian. "Three years ago, you married Julian in a grand wedding just to help Jace get Julian's letter of forgiveness. Over the years, I've seen Julian fall more and more deeply in love with you. Yet, you're still lying to him. "You gave him sterilization pills but passed them off as his depression medication. Aren't you afraid that he'll fall apart if he finds out the truth?" My wife, Erica Inman, briefly shows a conflicted expression on her face. She then gives a bitter smile and says, "A child unwanted by their mother has no reason to be born. As long as Julian doesn't stand in the way of Jace's happiness, I will keep my promise and stay by his side for the rest of his life." No one knows that I've learned Lytian to keep up with Erica. I stand in the living room and look at the fresh kiss mark on my neck. As I glance at the medication I take regularly for my depression, my whole body turns cold. It turns out that all of Erica's affection toward me was fake. What I thought was my salvation turns out to be nothing but a carefully planned deception. Since that's the case, I'll do my part to make sure they all get what they want.

Getting a good job that pays is kind of difficult and an offer came to her to commit a crime when she is no killer but for the money, she had no choice. She never planned to love but planned to be the billionaire hit woman, what happens when the table turns?

"S-stay away from me." She stammered while moving her steps backward just to hit the edge of the table. "Why would I do that?" He placed his hands on her either side surrounding her in his woody scent. She couldn't help but took a deep breath. "It's my p-personal space." She turned her face towards the bookshelf beside the table as he leaned his face closer. "Hmm..." He hummed as her whole body shuddered when he started tracing her jugular vein with his nose. Her mouth was dry as the aura of his scent was gone and fear conquered her body. "You are my personal thing too." He groaned jerking her towards him by her waist. "L-lea..." Her lips couldn't form the words as he captured her soft lips in a swift. ←→ Ara Smith, daughter of a priest, drowned in innocence. She is a 19 years old girl with a cheeky smile but she didn't get the chance to smile much after her father's death. ‹› Gareth Blade, a 31 years old mafia billionaire is another name for a nightmare. No one dares to match his stoned gaze that reflects his stoned heart. He can own the things that ever attracts his eyes but this time his eyes didn't fall on something but someone.

"Sign the papers, Estella." Marco slid the divorce papers across the mahogany table, his eyes fixed on Claudia, who hovered by his side with a victorious smile. "Did you really think a nobody like you could keep me?" Estella's throat tightened as she forced herself to meet his gaze. The diamond on Claudia's finger caught the light—his best friend now wearing what should have been hers forever. "You should be grateful," Claudia murmured, resting a hand on her belly. "Letting you go is the kindest thing we've done for you." When Estella married into the powerful Valdez family, she believed in love conquering all. Instead, she found herself cast out, Helena Valdez herself showing her the door when Claudia announced her pregnancy. Then Alejandro De Luca appeared—Marco's sworn enemy offering an unexpected proposition. "A contract marriage," he said simply. "You get protection. I get revenge." Together, they plotted to dismantle the very family that had humiliated her. With each calculated move, Estella reclaimed pieces of herself she thought lost forever. But revenge is a dangerous game. As their plan unfolded and tragedy struck, Estella discovered that survival meant more than settling scores—it meant learning to wield her pain as power. The quietest heart, after all, often hides the most dangerous storm.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

As the only expert in the world capable of rescue dives below 3,000 feet, I received a once-in-a-lifetime salvage contract worth tens of millions of dollars. I had dived in those same waters over a decade ago. My son's research submersible had been damaged on the ocean floor. After his oxygen ran out, he suffocated in the dark. The grief nearly destroyed me. My husband, Griffin Lattimer, held me through it, staying by my side through countless miserable nights. I found out later that he had personally redirected the only rescue vessel capable of reaching the depths our son was at to save his childhood friend's daughter. That girl had merely choked on a mouthful of water in the shallows. I divorced Griffin and threw myself into deep-sea salvage like a woman possessed, diving over and over until I knew the undercurrents of those waters better than I knew my own home. I never wanted another child to die the way mine did. Today brought the same stretch of ocean, the same crushed hull, the same depleted oxygen, and the same impossible odds. When I opened the client's file, I went completely still. I recognized the name and face inside instantly. I would never forget either of them for as long as I lived. I smiled and slid the folder back across the table to my partner. "I can't take this one."