Not a lot of men can give you an orgasm.But with Daniel Sanderson, it just came easy. A woman's disappointment, they say can be another's blessing. And in all the darkness and the strife, Jazzlyn had somehow managed to cling unto hers.She found Daniel—the one who was once smitten by her step-sister but also the one wrapped around in her arms that very moment. Lying in the bed with a steamy air sizzling up her nose, she exhaled because amidst every tumultuous thing that was going on, somehow he had clawed his way into her heart, somehow he was her most treasured peace. And it made Daniel question whatever he fell for in Isabella anyway and Jazzlyn, whether or not this one would last this time."That was good" Came a feeble whisper from her lips as her hands circled around the moist hair on his chest. He threw her a lingering sensual gaze from above whilst his chin rested into her lustrous hair. She held around the duvet across her chest but Jazzlyn held around Daniel tighter. "Yes
Something bad was about to happen.Finally, Elena had made her way to the driveway of her daughter's mansion and with tears in her eyes, she alighted the uber which had come to a slow halt. Wiping them, she faked as if she hadn't entirely broken down in the back of a stranger's car and wet the divorce papers Gregory had served her.Now bringing her feet out of the car, a soothing breeze whisked into her face and she heaved the painful sigh with the genuine thought that nothing relatively worse could happen that night. But alas, she was wrong.The ugly gut feeling speared her heart after she knocked on the front door for several minutes and Patricia hadn't replied. She usually never took this long and even though, she was like seven months pregnant, she still carried her legs agilely but something was wrong. But it had been more than ten minutes standing atop the portico and Elena looked through the wavering curtains by the windows.She pulled out her phone and dialed her daughter, sti
You know what’s fucking ironic—the saying that is feeling when your whole world crushes to the ground beneath your feet. Because you don’t feel anything when that happens, it’s just numbness and this sharp piecing pain that goes through your ears that for some reason can’t stop. It’s ironic, because you just stare, watch your whole world set ablaze and you’re miserable, only because you can’t do anything to stop it—you can barely even feel anything until the outer-worldly emotions suffix and everything is overwhelming them. You would then take a step back and wonder how exactly did everything get to this point.You may not be able to relate to this, hopefully you will never but in that moment, Isabella was faced the crumbles of her entire life. Because she pushed open the door and was met with her aunt lying across the ground. Without a single waiting thought, she plunged herself to her knees and held Majorie in her hands. Her eyes were closed and her body was as cold as ice with her
"It's been three weeks" There was a crack in Isabella's voice as she mounted the podium in a sheer black dress and holding a mic dressed with roses. Her eyes were as sour as her voice, let's face it, the makeup couldn't even cover how bad she had been fairing since standing in that hospital next to Bryson."I'm sorry, your aunt didn't make it" Were the words she felt would always echo back to her. Not just echo, haunt and stir her guts from the inside out. Whenever it did, she would feel the tears fill her eyes and slowly trickle down her heated face. But she faced the congregation beneath the lavender canopy and she swore she wasn't going to cry now.Not today—not the day of Majorie's funeral.There were flowers everywhere and a bunch of sad, long face. There was an eerie stench of loss and grief that lingered in the atmosphere no matter how light she desired it to be. A scoff escaped her lips as Isabella heaved a deep breath of it. There was a moment of silence observed just before
The darkness seemed to reify the mystery that lingered in the tense air between them. The sound of a revving motorcycle drew close before coming to a halt and his heavy hands parted open the clanging metal doors. “Have you got anything?” A raucous voice echoed from behind the desk, a hat atop the bearer’s head as a silhouette that outlined his frame—amask behind whose face was hidden.The man before him cupped his chin in defeat. “Nothing.” His calm voice was towered the raging man’s and a group of men in leather jackets seemed to close in on him. “Do you know how much time we have left—not much!” The man sparked for whatever reason, only his glinted eyes to be seen the dark.“I’m sorry” Came a shrill voice from the other and you could tell how much everyone in the dark room seemed to fear the man behind the desk—“I don’t want your apologies” He rudely struck out his hands.“All i want is for that bastard to pay back what he owes me” He added.“I’m trying—““You tried and you failed,
"Colton Chambers"At the call of his name, the man behind the prison bars lifted his face up to the guard that unlocked his cell. Colton arose to his feet with not an expression one saw everyday. "You have a visitor" The guard continued and drew his door open. Colton's eyes lit up in shock with a smirk creeping to the corner of his lips. "A visitor?" He echoed and his hands was bound in a pair of metal handcuffs before he escorted to the visiting room. The jailer left him by the door and his eyes settled on the one table that was half occupied.On one end was a nicely dressed man in a tuxedo and a briefcase placed to the table. Colton looked around the dimly lit room with a suspicious gaze and then he inched closer to take the seat. "Who are you?" His voice was deep and raucous."Good day to you too" The man replied with a certain level of equanimity unmatched and Colton cleared his throat. Their eyes locked for a tense second before the man pulled out a clipboard. Colton looked back
It was morning but somehow bringing her eyes to open was the hardest battle she faced. It was almost impossible but that's what happens when they have been closed for three weeks.Patricia laid flatlined across the bed with the incessant beeps of her heart monitor ringing into her ears, slowly but surely her eyes open and she darted a confusing glare around the room. There was a huge light just above her and then the next second, a face popped out. "She's awake!"Startled, she turned away but then the curtain drew open and it was a frenzy of unfamiliar faces. "Where am i?" She whispered softly from her lips and even trying to talk seemed painful. "I'm Doctor Emerson, okay, can you tell me your name?" There was a man that inched close to her, and using his fingers, he examined her eyes and the back of her wrists."What?" A crinkle came between her eyes and Patricia tried to sit up."Can you tell me your name?" Instead of answering the very question, Pat looked out through the doors and
"You're not pregnant."In that moment, a breath of relief escaped her sour lips and Kayla pushed a hard lump down her throat. It was a sunny morning in Arlingtons Height and that day marked a month since what happened to her husband, Colton.Call it paranoia but the few days leading to this one, she had felt the hunch that she might have been pregnant because they’d been trying months ago—months before she realized the atrocious monster that he was. Slowly, she’d met her peace during these four weeks but his mother seemed to still blame her for his disappearance.As she sat in that chair, it was not as if she didn’t miss him.Because she did, on top of that she wished things might have been different. She’d wanted to get pregnant for the longest time but sitting there again, she wasn’t sure what she wanted. Wasn’t sure if that breath was one of worry or of relief.Her family planning doctor sat forward in his chair but he still held the results on a thin sheet of paper in his hands. K