The Forbidden Apple
There are three types of apples that fell into this world.
The one that hit my head was the forbidden one.
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In which an English country girl goes from being a waitress, to being the wife of the richest billionaire in London.
“It is simple, all you have to do is get my husband into a hotel room, and you’ll get a hundred thousand pounds” she said looking the innocent girl in the eye, their eyes met and the girl cowered as she looked at the woman, processing what she was saying and how much she was offering.
“You want me to seduce your husband?” The girl asked looking at the woman who stood above her head, like a predator threatening her prey.
“No, all I want you to do is get him into a hotel room, leave the rest on me” she said looking at the girl who was shocked, her heart racing as she thought of what that woman was asking her to do.
“Why would you want a girl to get your husband into a hotel room? And more importantly, why me?”
“I need to get a divorce, and you need to stay away from my son. See, it’s a win, win, darling”
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