Nina's POV As soon as I made my statement about the VIP card, the entire room fell into stunned silence. Everyone, from the waitress standing beside me to the other patrons, was caught off guard by what I’d said. Their faces showed a mix of confusion, curiosity, and skepticism, but I stood tall, refusing to break my composure. The waitress, holding a small device that looked like a POS machine for payment verification, seemed completely unprepared for my response. I could see the doubt in her eyes as she processed what I’d just said.“I am so sorry, Ma’am,” she stammered, her eyes flickering back and forth between my face and the card in my hand. “But I’ve never heard of a VIP card being inside a regular debit card. This is... This is really funny, and I’m not going to buy that idea.”Her words were meant to dismiss me, but I didn’t let them shake me. I could feel my chest tighten with the simmering heat of indignation, but I refused to show it. I had been underestimated before, but
Nina's POVI could hardly believe my eyes as the scene unfolded before me. Jasper, the man who had caused me so much pain and confusion, was being dragged out of the house by the police. The very sight of him—his frantic, wild-eyed look, his desperate thrashing against the officers—was surreal. I hadn’t expected to witness this moment today, or ever, but now that it was happening, I felt an odd sense of vindication. He had done so many horrible things, and now, finally, he was paying the price. But the surprise didn’t stop there. Just as they were about to drag him out the door, Jasper’s voice cut through the tension like a knife."I want to talk! I want to talk to them! I want to talk to my grandma! You can’t take me like this!" His voice, full of desperation, echoed through the hall. He stopped halfway, pulling against the officer's hold as if he could will himself free.I stood frozen, caught between disbelief and the smallest, darkest sense of satisfaction. I hadn’t expected him
**The Day of the Banquet***(Nina's POV)*The days flew by so fast I barely noticed the banquet looming closer. And now, here I was, seated in front of a large gilded mirror in my room, letting a team of skilled makeup artists work their magic on me. My reflection was a work in progress: my skin already glowing from the serums and lotions I’d carefully applied moments before. The artists flitted around me like butterflies, adding color and life to my face, brushing through my hair, and perfecting every detail.The excitement in the air was almost tangible, but beneath the surface, a current of nerves churned in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was from anticipation or dread. The banquet wasn’t just a celebration—it was an exhibition, a grand spectacle where the powerful flaunted their wealth and connections. And I was the host.I barely noticed the door creak open until Louisa, one of our maids, stepped in with a nervous smile and my laptop carefully balanced in her hands. "Ma'am, here
**Nina's POV**I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. My auburn curls cascaded down my shoulders, framing my face. I was dressed in a fitted emerald gown that hugged every curve, the color enhancing the fiery determination in my hazel eyes. Today wasn’t just another day. Today, I would reclaim my identity, my pride, and my dignity. I adjusted the diamond necklace on my neck—the very one my late father gave me. His words echoed in my mind: *"Nina, never let anyone dim your light."*The clock chimed softly in the background as the housekeeper, Louise, poked her head into the room. “Miss McDonald, it’s time. The guests are waiting.”“Let them wait,” I murmured, my voice calm yet laced with steel. But then something caught my attention—a notification on my laptop. I turned and saw Xander, my assistant, gesturing for me to answer a video call.“Miss Nina, Mr. Leonard Diego has arrived,” Thunder, my security lead, announced.I froze for a second, then let out a soft breat
Nina's POVI had never imagined a moment like this. It felt like something out of a surreal movie—a dream I couldn’t wake up from. There I was, standing in the middle of an extravagant banquet, the center of attention, and yet, all I felt was the weight of the decisions pressing down on me. Four men—four powerful, influential men—kneeling in front of me, each offering their heart, their loyalty, and their future. And I, caught in the chaos of it all, didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. But what was truly baffling was that none of them truly understood who I was—not the person I had worked so hard to become.I could see their faces as I looked down at them. Matthew’s intense gaze, as if he was certain that my answer would be yes. Leonard’s hopeful, almost desperate eyes, pleading with me as if he truly believed we had some unfinished story. And then there was Jordan, my ex-husband, the man who had once promised me everything but ended up shattering my world.I could feel my h
Rated 18+!Wedding sex!!He carried me to the room, after the banquet. This was the first time I came to his house! It was so big and beautiful.We got to the bed room, I could see his cock trapped and bent down in his briefs. The tip was swollen and sticking out the leg hole of his underwear. A thin bead ofprecum was dripping down his hairy leg. "My, husband, it looks like such a big north pole you have. And there's a melting icicle dripping from it. mmmm." I licked my lips."You're so naughty little girl. Naughty girls get sticks for the night." He teased me. His hands felt wonderful on my breasts. "Oh Mark Naughty girls get pricks not sticks. Long hard pricks."I could feel my nipples getting harder and harder as he rolled them with his thumb and massaged with taunt stroking circular pressure. My pussy was drooling in my panties. "My naughty pussy is feeling very naughtywet.""I love naughty wet pussy." He replied as he imagined the deep red darkness of my panties soaked with my
Miranda's POVI leaned back in my chair, staring out the window of my Paris office as the sun dipped behind the city’s skyline. Paris had always been a place of inspiration for me, a city of dreams and love. But at that moment, the Eiffel Tower’s glow felt distant and cold. My life had become a whirlwind of responsibilities since my father’s passing a year ago. As his only child, I had inherited everything—his company, his estate, his legacy. Towers Corporations was now my responsibility, and I was determined to prove I could uphold his name.Despite the weight of it all, there was one anchor in my life that kept me grounded—my husband, Desmond. Desmond Howard had been my college sweetheart, the man I fell hopelessly in love with and married two years ago. I trusted him implicitly, loved him unconditionally. He was my safe haven in a world filled with boardroom battles and corporate politics. His charm, his smile, the way he supported me even when I doubted myself—it all reminded me w
**Miranda’s POV** My heart was pounding, each beat thudding like a drum in my chest as I opened the door to our bedroom. The sight that greeted me made my knees weaken, my breath catching in my throat. My husband, Desmond, the man I had fought my family for, the man I’d spent two years loving despite their warnings, was lying in our bed with my cousin—Brenda. Brenda’s bare shoulders peeked out from beneath the sheets as she clutched them to her chest, her face flushed with embarrassment. Desmond didn’t even try to cover himself. Instead, he looked at me with wide eyes, his lips parting as though he had something to say. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of my own breathing, sharp and ragged, as the betrayal of the scene before me sank in. “Miranda… I can explain—” Desmond began, his tone calm yet pleading, as if he believed there was some version of this situation where I wouldn’t explode in fury. “Explain?” I hissed, my voice trembling but gaining s
Miranda's POVI had been waiting for this moment—this one perfect opportunity to settle the score with Brenda. It was almost poetic, really, that life had placed us here. On this set, acting out a scene where she played the mistress, the role she had so gleefully embraced in real life. My heart pounded with exhilaration as I stood across from her, knowing that this wasn’t just a scene to me.This was my revenge.Brenda stood there with that smug expression plastered on her face, her lips curled in a self-satisfied smile as she glanced my way. My stomach churned at the sight of her, but I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. I couldn’t lose my composure—not yet.Desmond, as clueless as ever, stood nearby, chatting with the director. His face was calm, his body relaxed. He didn’t have the faintest idea of what was about to happen. None of them did.“Alright, people,” the director barked, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attentio
**Miranda’s POV** The moment I stepped into the room, I knew she was there. Brenda’s scent lingered, faint yet distinct, like a trail she couldn’t help but leave behind. Desmond was already on the bed, feigning sleep, but I could see right through him. His breathing wasn’t steady; his body language was far from relaxed. I’ve known Desmond for years, long enough to tell when he’s lying. And right now, he wasn’t just lying—he was panicking. I played my part, though. I smiled at him softly, pretending to buy his half-hearted excuse. “Tired, are we?” I asked, walking across the room, my heels clicking against the tiled floor. He muttered something incoherent and shifted slightly, his back turned to me. I made no effort to press him further. Instead, my eyes flickered toward the closet. I didn’t need to open it to confirm what I already knew—Brenda was inside. Her perfume was unmistakable, a suffocating sweetness that always made my stomach churn. How pre
Desmond’s POV The air inside my office was heavy with tension as I returned from dinner with Laila. Her sweet smile lingered in my mind, but not for the reasons she might have hoped. It wasn’t love or admiration that drove my interest in her—it was the plan. The perfect, calculated plan to take over her father’s company, just like I had taken Miranda’s. Miranda, my late wife, who had trusted me blindly. She never saw it coming. I leaned back in my chair, running my hand through my hair, as the memories of how I had betrayed Miranda flooded back. I had manipulated her into loving me, all the while scheming to take her company. And when she became an obstacle, I removed her. It was a necessary evil. Now, with Laila back in London and running her late father’s empire, I saw my next golden opportunity. But she was no fool. Laila was sharper, more resilient, and deeply protective of her father's legacy. Winning her trust—and her hand—would require more finesse. I couldn’t afford to ru
Miranda’s POVThe air in the restaurant was heavy, suffocating almost, as I tried to keep my composure. Across from me, Desmond sat with a grin that stretched too wide, his eyes brimming with an almost childlike excitement. It was nauseating. He leaned closer, his voice cutting through the low hum of the other diners."Miss Layla," he began, his tone overly sweet, "please tell me—you are considering canceling your engagement with Nolan, right? I mean, that would be the best decision you’ve ever made. I’m ready for you. I’ve always been ready."The audacity of his words made me laugh, a short, bitter sound that escaped before I could stop it. If only he knew the truth. If only he understood the depth of his betrayal and the ruin he brought to my life before this second chance. If not for fate intervening, I would’ve been dead by now, buried six feet under while he danced on my grave.Still, I kept my expression neutral, letting my fingers trace the rim of the coffee cup before me. His
Miranda’s POVDesmond blocked my path as I exited the restaurant, his expression plastered with a self-satisfied smirk that did nothing but annoy me. His desperation to hold my attention was written all over his face, and for someone who claimed to have everything under control, he was anything but subtle.“Miss Laila,” he started, his tone a mix of pleading and practiced charm. “I was hoping we could talk.”I didn’t even slow down. “About what, Desmond?” I shot back, barely glancing at him. My voice was calm, but the annoyance was evident in my tone. “Your lies? Your desperate attempts at flattery? Or the chaos you bring wherever you go?”He flinched slightly but quickly masked it with another charming smile. “No, nothing like that,” he said, walking alongside me as I headed into the shopping mall next door. “I just wanted to make things clear between us. I feel like you misunderstand me.”I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Misunderstand you? I don’t think I do. You’re transparent,
**Miranda’s POV** As Desmond blocked my path to the restaurant door, his face wore an expression that was both pleading and frustratingly insincere. I had no interest in entertaining his antics any longer. His lies, his deceit—they were suffocating, and I wasn’t about to let him drag me further into his web of manipulation. He raised a hand slightly, almost as if to stop me physically, but thought better of it. “Miss Laila, please,” he began, his tone low and falsely apologetic. “Let me explain. This is all just a misunderstanding.” I folded my arms across my chest, my lips curling into a faint smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “A misunderstanding? You hitting Brenda was a misunderstanding? Or was it when you suddenly professed love at first sight after meeting me for all of ten minutes?” He blinked, as though stunned by my words. “It’s not like that,” he insisted. “She’s been obsessive. She’s made things unbearable for me, and I had to—” I cut him off with a wave of my hand.
Miranda’s POVDesmond. His name alone was enough to make my skin crawl. A green snake in green grass—a perfect idiom for the kind of man he was. I had known him far too long, loved him far too deeply, and been betrayed by him in ways I could never forget. We had been married for three years, and in those years, I had learned one undeniable truth: Desmond was a master of deception.As Clara and I arrived at the restaurant for lunch, she quickly excused herself to find us a table, leaving me to my thoughts. My gaze naturally scanned the parking lot, and there he was. Desmond. And with him was someone I had hoped never to see again—Brenda.My lips curled into a bitter smile as I watched her wrap her arms around him from behind. The smug grin on her face screamed familiarity, intimacy, and arrogance. Desmond, ever the performer, immediately began pushing her away as soon as he noticed me. His face morphed into one of exaggerated annoyance, but I could see righ
Miranda's POVNolan and Desmond—two men entangled in a dangerous web they believed I couldn’t untangle. Little did they know, I had no intention of being anyone’s pawn. They thought I was weak, someone who could be manipulated, but this time, I held all the cards. I wasn’t seeking love, not from them or anyone. My reincarnation wasn’t a gift for a second chance at romance—it was for revenge.Sitting in my office, Nolan’s words still echoed in my mind. His warning was genuine, his concern palpable. “Desmond is dangerous,” he’d said. I didn’t need his caution. Desmond was my ex-husband, the man who had betrayed and murdered me in my past life. I knew his motives better than anyone.Nolan, on the other hand, intrigued me. There was a sincerity in his voice that made it difficult to brush him off completely. Unlike Desmond, his intentions didn’t seem malicious—at least not yet. But sincerity wasn’t enough to earn my trust. Both men had their sights set on my f
Miranda's POV They were all just barking like dogs, their voices blending into a cacophony of anger and frustration. I stood there, unfazed, watching the chaos unfold. My stepmother and stepsister were putting on a show for everyone in the restaurant, their faces contorted with rage. To me, it was amusing. No matter how loudly they yelled, it didn’t matter. I was prepared for them—more than they realized.But since this was a public place, I knew I couldn't fully indulge in what I wanted to say or do. Still, a part of me itched to stay. I wanted to see just how far they’d go. As I turned to leave, Desmond called out, his voice laced with a desperate apology.“Lila, wait,” he said, stepping toward me.I paused and looked back at him. His expression was conflicted, a mixture of guilt and determination etched across his face. I raised a brow, waiting for him to speak. Before he could, my stepmother rushed toward us, her face red with fury.