Hello readers, Isn't their bond is cute? Hehe.
Michael's pov -As Jack and I sit in the cozy corner of our favorite café, sipping on our coffee, the conversation takes an unexpected turn toward our financial situation. Jack starts discussing the royalty-sharing process with our authors, and my mind can't help but wander off to a particular author—Tuberose."So, Michael, have you been managing the royalty-sharing process smoothly with our authors?" Jack inquires, his eyes glinting with curiosity.I snap back to reality, realizing I had drifted off into my own thoughts. "Oh, yeah, Jack. Everything has been going well so far. Most authors prefer the traditional bank process or P****l for their payments."Jack nods, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. "Makes sense. It's easier for them to receive their earnings through established channels. Keeps things organized and secure."I agree, but in the back of my mind, a flicker of intrigue ignites. Tuberose, the enigmatic author who hides behind a pen name, has always piqued my curiosity. I can
Michael's pov -As I sit in my office, surrounded by stacks of files containing the bank details of the writers we've recently signed, my anticipation grows. The time has come to review their information, to assess their financial credibility. I turn to Jack, my colleague and trusted confidant, and request that he bring me the files."Jack, please show me the bank details files," I say, my voice filled with a mix of excitement and curiosity.Jack nods and retrieves the files, placing them before me on the desk. I eagerly flip through the pages, expecting to find the necessary banking information from each writer. However, my excitement quickly turns to disappointment as I come across Tuberose's file.To my dismay, I find that Tuberose has only shared her P****l ID. Frustration bubbles up within me, and I can't help but frown. How could she overlook such a crucial detail? I turn to Jack, my disappointment is evident in my voice. "Jack, why didn't they request identity proof from these w
Abigail's pov - As the day winds down and the sky paints hues of twilight, Chloe and I embark on our mission to deliver dinner to nine different places. It seemed like a simple task at first, but as the hours passed, exhaustion crept in and my feet grew heavy with fatigue. I turn to Chloe, a sense of awe and admiration in my voice. "How do you manage to work so tirelessly, Chloe? I can barely keep up with this demanding schedule." Chloe's eyes meet mine, and a flicker of melancholy crosses her face. "Abigail, you know this isn't just work for me. It's my way of supporting my parents." Curiosity piques within me as I delve deeper into Chloe's story. "Tell me more about your parents, Chloe. I want to understand what drives you." A hint of sadness touches her voice as she begins her tale. "My parents adopted me when I was young. They gave me a home, love, and a future. Two years ago, my father suffered a stroke that left his left side paralyzed. My mom takes care of him, but the medi
Abigail's pov -As I step into the comforting embrace of my home, the weariness of the day's labor settles into my bones. The challenges and triumphs I experienced during my deliveries fade into the background, eclipsed by a feeling of contentment that only comes from knowing I am exactly where I am meant to be.The shower's warm cascade washes away the physical and mental exhaustion, revitalizing my senses and refreshing my spirit. Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I make my way to my bedroom, my sanctuary, where dreams and reality intertwine.With a sigh of relief, I sink into the softness of my bed, its comforting embrace inviting me to let go of the day's responsibilities. The familiar glow of my phone illuminates the dimly lit room, and I find myself drawn to it, the allure of connection and possibility beckoning me.Opening the I*******m app, my heart skips a beat as I see Mick's profile, his handsome face smiling back at me. It's as if the world around me fades into the background, and
Michael's pov - I find myself standing in a realm between consciousness and dreams, a hazy landscape where reality mingles with the ethereal. In this mysterious place, a yearning stirs within me, a longing for the girl whose face remains elusive, yet whose presence captivates my every thought. She is my Tuberose, the one I desire to worship like a goddess in the temple of my heart. With a voice filled with longing, I call out to her, pleading for her to reveal herself. "Tuberose, please come to me," I whisper, my words carried on a tender sigh. "Let me see your face, know your name, and hold you in my arms." As if in response to my entreaty, a figure begins to materialize before me, her features obscured by a soft haze. Tuberose, the embodiment of mystery and allure, stands before me, her presence filling the space between us with an intoxicating energy. Her voice, like a gentle caress, reaches my ears. "Michael, my beloved, the time will come when I shall reveal my identity to you
Ema's pov - As I sit in the office, my mind races with anticipation and excitement. The internship in Michael's company has been an incredible opportunity for me to gain practical experience and knowledge in the business world. However, it has also served as a stepping stone towards my true goal: to gather enough knowledge to join my father's business. I don't want to rely on the advantage of my family connections; I want to earn my place in the industry. I share my aspirations with Michael, feeling a mixture of nerves and eagerness. His office exudes an air of professionalism, yet he manages to create a welcoming atmosphere that puts me at ease. Michael listens attentively as I lay out my plans, and when I finish, there's a moment of silence that hangs between us. Then, with a warm smile, Michael leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together. His eyes radiate wisdom and experience as he begins to speak. "Ema, I appreciate your honesty and the sincerity with which you approa
Michael's pov - As I sit in my office, surrounded by the trappings of success, my thoughts drift towards Tuberose. It has been two months since her book was published, and its impact on my life has been nothing short of remarkable. My business has soared to new heights, and her words have resonated with millions of readers worldwide. The book has become a sensation, selling three million copies in just two months, making it the best-selling book of all time. I owe a debt of gratitude to Tuberose for this incredible achievement. Yet, amidst the celebrations, one question continues to nag at me: How can I discover Tuberose's true identity? I have exhausted every possible avenue, but she remains an enigma, revealing nothing more than her gender. I yearn to know the person behind the brilliant words, the one who has impacted my life in such profound ways. Interrupting my reverie, Abigail's voice breaks through the silence. "May I come in, sir?" she asks politely. "Yes, please," I repli
Abigail's pov - As I return to my desk, a wave of conflicting emotions washes over me. The encounter with Michael in his office has left me in a state of unease. His inquiry about how I knew Tuberose's gender has ignited a whirlwind of thoughts within me. I find myself torn between revealing the truth and keeping my secret hidden. Should I confess to Michael that I am the elusive Tuberose, the one whose words have captured his heart and imagination? Or should I remain silent, preserving the distance between my identity as Abigail and my alter ego as Tuberose? The truth is, I am scared. Scared of how Michael might react to the revelation. Will he see me differently? Will his perception of me change? I don't want to be the one he looks at with admiration solely for my talent. I want him to love me for who I am as a person, as Abigail, not just as Tuberose. But the weight of this secret is becoming burdensome. I feel a longing to share my truth, to let him in on the secret that has bo
Author's POV -[9 months later]As Abigail awakens, she finds herself in a rather wet and unexpected predicament. Without a moment's hesitation, she unleashes a resounding yell, "Miiiiiiiiiccccccccckkkkkkkkkk..."In a remarkable display of Olympic-level sprinting, Michael, wrapped in nothing but a hastily grabbed towel, races out of the washroom, his face an exquisite blend of confusion and concern. "Baby, what happened?"Abigail points to her soggier-than-a-sponge state. "Look at my state, damn it. My water's broken! Take me to the hospital!"Michael, in the middle of trying to don a pair of trousers and an inside-out t-shirt, pauses for a moment, contemplating the situation. "Just a moment, let me wear something."But his fashion crisis is swiftly dismissed as Abigail, with a hint of a smile, quips, "You wore the t-shirt's wrong side.""Leave it. You and the baby are more important." He hastily adjusts his pants and tugs the t-shirt to its rightful orientation. Scooping up Abigail in
***mature content*** Abigail's POV - I am flying in the ninth sky. My every ride and his grip on my hip. I fail to hold for more and cum again. I fail to stay on my knees but his grabs make me get into the missionary position and he is still inside me. He starts thrusting without any warning. I pull him closer. His strong biceps are my pillar now. His joystick is quite large for me to take. Still, it's a pleasure I wanted all the time. There is no manipulation or conspiracy. Only our love and us. He leaves my grip and gets on his knees. Our sweated bodies, heaving chests, and louder exhales are the witness of our pleasure. He brings his dick out and grins at me. "Let's take a 5 minute break. You are so exhausted. I don't want this night to end faster with our tiredness but to keep it alive till dawn or maybe later." He starts kissing me all over my body. I doubt he is leaving an inch to travel his brim against my skin. He again holds my legs and gets on his knees. "It's time for an
Michael's POV -I break the kiss and pull her closer. I make her sit on my thighs and take the ice cream. "Do you know? There is a unique way to have ice cream." I want to start what I wanted for a long time slowly."What is that way, Sir?" She has a shy smile on her lips.I put a little bit of ice cream on her chin and lick it gently. She quivers into my arms. "Mick.""It's my turn. You said that you would let me do everything I wanted after our wedding. So, it's the time. Isn't it?" My husky voice and her ear lobe. Just a perfect combination. I am sucking her ear lobe and she is releasing a slow moan."Did I say no?" I grin at her reply."I want to put you into the swimming pool and get inside you but that might be later. It's not going to be two or three rounds. Maybe the whole night." I am on her neck now. My grip is around her so tight that I will not allow her to move if I don't want to."Anywhere or anything. I am okay with everything." Our love is now at the peak of lust.I lif
Abigail's POV -Our wedding day, and it holds an even more special significance this time—it's our 3rd anniversary. Mick chose this very day for our re-wedding, and we've been eagerly anticipating it for weeks. Today, I have a unique wedding gift for my husband—a manuscript of my new book, 'Fragrance of Love 2'. I know it will light up his face with joy, and that's precisely what I want to see.As I hold the bound manuscript in my hands, I hear his voice calling for me, and a smile tugs at my lips. "What is my wife up to on our wedding day?" he asks, his eyes dancing with excitement. "I can't wait to recite our vows again. I wish we could have a grand celebration, but I respect your wish."He pouts playfully, and I can't resist the urge to pull his cheek gently. "Mr. Husband, I want this day to be special in its simplicity, just for us." I say, putting a quick peck on his lips."But after the wedding, Abby, there's something I've been patiently waiting for, and you've been using this '
Michael's POV -The morning sun barely peeks through the curtains as I awaken, wrapped in the warmth of Abigail's embrace. Last night was nothing short of magic, the kind that leaves you in awe of the universe, feeling blessed and alive. Her peaceful slumber beside me is like a painting, serene and beautiful. I gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face and plant a soft kiss on her forehead."Good morning, my love," I whisper, my voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open, and a smile graced her lips."Good morning, hubby," she replies, her voice a sweet melody that warms my heart. She stretches her body, her bare back exposed, and I can't help but admire the graceful curve of her spine. But as I lean in to kiss her, she covers her chest with her hands, her cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink.I can't contain my laughter. "Are you serious, wifey? I held you undressed all night, and now you're covering yourself?" I playfully tease as I tuc
Abigail's POV -"Why did your husband try to put my wife behind bars? How could I stay passive?" William's voice clashes with mine, both of us brimming with anger."Now you can understand, can't you? Your wife attempted to murder his wife. Wouldn't he seek justice? I let that go, so you shouldn't attempt to harm my husband," I retort, my eyes blazing with fury."What is happening here?" Ema, that cheating friend of mine, suddenly appears out of nowhere."Your husband tried to harm my husband. I swear, Ema, if you don't keep your husband under control, you might end up a widow, and no one can stop me," I seethe, my words dripping with resentment and disdain."Mind your tongue, Abi," she snaps, but I cut her off, a storm of emotions fueling my rage. "Abigail Pattinson. Address me by Abigail. You've lost the right to call me Abi. Besides, I would love to slap you harder, but if I did, it would be considered animal abuse, and I don't want to stoop to that level," I declare, my gun still po
Abigail's POV -Days flow steadily, like a calm river winding its way through life's landscapes. I sit at my desk, penning down words that weave stories of love and heartache. Fragrance of Love, my most successful novel to date, brought the intoxicating aroma of success into my life. Now, I'm immersed in crafting its sequel, Fragrance of Love Season 2, hoping to give the love it couldn't find in the first part—a story mirroring my own life's journey, finding its path to happiness.These past two years have been transformative. The catering business Chole and I started, now known as 'A&C,' has flourished under Chloe's capable leadership. Despite Michael's proposal for a business collaboration between our companies, I was adamant about maintaining our individuality. Our love might be on the mend, but our businesses remained separate entities.In this time, I've managed to complete seven books, each a piece of my heart poured onto the pages. Fragrance of Love holds a special place, its su
Abigail's POV -Two weeks have passed since that dramatic day in the heart of New York City when I gave Michael one last chance. It's been a whirlwind of emotions, but the most important thing is that he's recovering well. I've been dividing my time between the hospital and home, and even though he's eager to come home, I've insisted on staying by his side at the hospital.Honestly, I can't help but be a bit possessive. I don't like the idea of nurses fussing over him, even if it's for his own good. And, to my relief, it seems that Mick has noticed too.Today, I'm driving to the hospital from home. As I enter his room, I see one of the nurses talking animatedly with Mick, both of them sharing a friendly smile. My heart gives an involuntary pang, and a touch of jealousy creeps in. I can't help it; I just want all his attention for myself.Summoning my bravado, I stride over to them, trying to mask my irritation with a polite smile. "Excuse me," I say sweetly to the nurse. "Could you giv
Michael's POV -Pain pulses through my body as we speed through the city streets, my thoughts consumed by one burning question: where is Abby? I've tried calling her countless times, my desperation growing with each unanswered ring. It's as if she's vanished into thin air, leaving me with a deep sense of emptiness.In my desperation, I dial my father's number. "Dad," I say urgently, "I need you to call Abby and keep the line open for at least 30 seconds. We can trace her location that way."The seconds feel like hours as I wait for my father's call back. Every passing moment is a torment, and I can't bear the thought of Abby slipping further away from me.Finally, my father's name flashes on my screen, and I answer with bated breath. "Dad, did you—"But his words cut me off. "She hung up, Mick," he says with a heavy sigh. "And she sent a message, saying she'll talk to you when she returns to California."My heart sinks as I hear those words. I wanted to see her, to hold her, to beg for