Caramel_one

The story entails the life of an independent lady who falls in love with a billionaire Brianna castles is a very intelligent caramel skinned,tall,willowy,introverted and independent lady. She works a 9-5 job as a director at new way company and also does event planning on the side. She grew up with only her mother and siblings as family since she lost her father when she was a kid. But she has no idea what life has in store for her when the least expected person tries to steal her relationship through contract marriage and she tries to frame her up,will she be smart enough to over come the obstacles? Emmanuel Dennis,who never loved his background because of the fake love attached to it by favor seekers falls head over heels in love with Brianna and tries to fight all obstacles in their way. Will his crush let go of him and let him go ahead with a lady of a different family social class? Claudia Bernard an elegant willowy lady and also a selfish spoilt brat who had always had her way with whatever she wants somehow got to know that her high school crush whom she always discarded because she thought was a poor child turns out to be one of the sons of the high and mighty Mr Dennis whom even her father with all his wealth worships. How could she let go of this opportunity, will she let him go without struggles? Let’s unravel this together

My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

My wedding to Ethan Reed was just weeks away. After seven years, I was certain of our perfect future. Then, Ethan claimed "selective amnesia" from a head injury, forgetting only me. I tried to make him remember, until I overheard his video call. "Total genius move," he boasted to friends. His amnesia was a fake "hall pass" to pursue influencer Chloe Vance before our wedding. Heartbroken, I feigned belief. I endured his open flirting with Chloe and their taunting selfies. He mocked my distress, prioritizing Chloe's fake emergency. After an accident he caused, he abandoned me, injured, choosing to send Chloe to the hospital first. He even tried to cut me off financially. How could my fiancé be this cruel, calculating monster? His betrayal poisoned every memory. I felt like a fool for trusting such boundless cruelty. His audacity left me reeling. But I wouldn’t be his victim. Instead of breaking, a cold plan formed. I would shed my identity, become Olivia Carter. I would disappear, leaving him, my past, and his engagement ring behind forever, claiming my freedom.

For ten years, Alexander Sterling was my world. He found me, a quiet designer, and lifted me into a life of unimaginable privilege, showering me with a love so fierce, it felt like a fairytale. Then Clara Bell appeared, and that man vanished, replaced by a ruthless CEO who watched me bleed in the snow after I lost our baby, a child he didn' t even know about. He called me an embarrassment, demanded I apologize to her as I lay broken in a hospital bed, and then, as she and her mother threatened my dying brother, he stood by and did nothing. The love that was once my sun, moon, and stars died that day, leaving only ash. But in that silent, desolate room, a cold resolve hardened: A new Eleanor would rise from the ruins of the old, destined to break free from his gilded cage and reclaim her life.

The first sign was a text message glowing on Liam' s phone screen. "I miss you. When can I see you again?" it read, from a woman named Sarah. I was sitting on the edge of our bed, waiting for him, clutching the phone that held a history of his secret intimacy. When he walked out of the shower, naked save for the towel around his hips, I didn' t scream. I just held up the phone and said, "Her or me, Liam." He chose me, deleted her number, and swore it was a mistake. But the silence in our penthouse grew louder, his touch became a habit, and his eyes looked through me, not at me. I felt myself disappearing, desperate and pathetic, despite being the heiress to a real estate empire. So, I proposed to him, clutching at a phantom hope at a charity gala, only for his forced "Okay, Ava. Let' s get married" to ring hollow. The wedding preparations were a blur of my efforts, conspicuously absent of him. My friends and family saw the pity in my eyes, but I pushed on, convinced the vows would banish Sarah' s ghost. Then, on our painfully beautiful wedding day, as the officiant prepared to pronounce us, a small voice cut through the air. "Daddy?" A little girl, no more than five, stood at the aisle's entrance, huge tearful eyes fixed on Liam. His face went ashen. He dropped my hands as if burned, turned, and ran-away from me, our vows, everything-scooping the little girl into his arms. Sarah stood behind her, a triumphant, sorrowful look on her face. He abandoned me at the altar, humiliating me for the world to see. Deep down, a cold clarity told me this was always a possibility, and I was not unprepared. Taking the microphone, I announced, "The groom has a prior commitment. Enjoy the food. Consider it a celebration of my newfound freedom." I ordered security and called my lawyer. They had robbed me of my dignity, but I wouldn't let them rewrite my story. It was time to fight back.

!!Mature Content 18+ Erotic short stories!!! "Let's play truth and dare shall we?" She challenged. Alan didn't need to ponder about it, since his life was going to end anyway. It's not such a bad idea to play games with his neighbor-enemy- a sexy b***h at that- With a decisive gaze, he met her eyes. "I take the dare." He uttered and Gia had a mischievous smirk as she rubbed her palms slowly, Explore a realm of steamy, dripping hot one-night sex between next-door neighbors who deemed themselves as enemies. On the sideline, they nurture the dirtiest, sexiest, and naughtiest fantasies about pleasuring their crushes. The lustful tension becomes palpable as these hotties ogle at their next-door neighbors through the window until they surrender to their repressed, dark, unapologetic, and tempting desires. Watch as the boundaries between sexual attraction and hate blur in exciting ways.

I was four months pregnant, a photographer excited for our future, attending a sophisticated baby brunch. Then I saw him, my husband Michael, with another woman, and a newborn introduced as "his son." My world shattered as a torrent of betrayal washed over me, magnified by Michael's dismissive claim I was "just being emotional." His mistress, Serena, taunted me, revealing Michael had discussed my pregnancy complications with her, then slapped me, causing a terrifying cramp. Michael sided with her, publicly shaming me, demanding I leave "their" party, as a society blog already paraded them as a "picture-perfect family." He fully expected me to return, to accept his double life, telling his friends I was "dramatic" but would "always come back." The audacity, the calculated cruelty of his deception, and Serena's chilling malice, fueled a cold, hard rage I barely recognized. How could I have been so blind, so trusting of the man who gaslighted me for months while building a second family? But on the plush carpet of that lawyer's office, as he turned his back on me, a new, unbreakable resolve solidified. They thought I was broken, disposable, easily manipulated – a "reasonable" wife who would accept a sham separation. They had no idea my calm acceptance was not surrender; it was strategy, a quiet promise to dismantle everything he held dear. I would not be handled; I would not understand; I would end this, and make sure their perfect family charade crumbled into dust.

My little brother, Leo, was dying, dependent on a miracle surgery our family couldn't afford. My only hope was my five-year relationship with Ethan Vanderbilt, the wealthy heir - a relationship I' d clung to despite his growing cruelty. Then, he called me to his penthouse, not for reconciliation, but to introduce Isabella Romano, his new, stunning fiancée. "You were always a bit... much, Mia," he sneered, discarding me for an "upgrade." Public humiliation followed, as society pages lauded their perfect match, branding me the desperate ex. My own father, desperate for Leo' s life, told me I should have "tried harder." Our last hope seemed to vanish. Just when I thought I was at rock bottom, Ethan' s ruthless uncle, Charles Vanderbilt, offered a bizarre lifeline: full funding for Leo' s surgery. The catch? I had to go to a remote Vermont clinic and act as a discreet observer for his "comatose" brother-in-law, Marcus Thorne. Spy on a dying man for the family who' d just ruined me? Why me? What dark secrets was I being forced into? It felt like a devil' s bargain, a humiliation worse than anything Ethan could inflict, and I couldn't ignore the chilling sense of injustice. But for Leo, I' d do anything. So I packed my bags, leaving everything behind for that bleak, uncertain future in Vermont. I expected silent days watching a still form, but the "comatose" Marcus Thorne wasn't so comatose after all. And the very first thing he said to me wasn't 'hello,' but, "As I recall, Mia Hayes, you were my first kiss."

I stood at my engagement party, champagne clinking, Liam's arm around me. Life was perfect. My best friend, Chloe, was there, laughing too loudly, but it was our day. Then Liam took the stage. My heart beat faster, ready for his sweet words. Instead, he announced a "sudden, undeniable change." He said he couldn't marry me. His eyes landed on Chloe. "She's the one." The room gasped. My face burned as everyone stared. My fiancé and best friend, my closest people, publicly humiliated me, smirking as I fled town, stripped of dignity. Years later, having rebuilt my life and married Julian Thorne, a tech mogul, I returned to Lynwood for a quiet work trip. And I saw them. Liam, successful, and Chloe, still his trophy. They sneered, mocking my humble appearance, calling me a failure. When I mentioned my husband, they laughed, accusing me of delusions. Liam then attacked me, snatching Julian' s locket, the symbol of my new life. He broke my hand, screaming I was a liar, a thief. Then his goons dragged me to a dark storage room, locking me in. My hand throbbed, my heart ached with crushing despair. They even found Isabella, the kind staffer who tried to help me, silencing her. Chloe appeared, gloating, telling me I would confess I was a lunatic at their wedding tomorrow, to finally destroy me. How could two people be so cruel, so utterly intent on my ruination? I was trapped, shattered, every hope of justice gone. But as they dragged me into the ballroom, preparing to force my twisted confession, an unexpected presence in the crowd began to rise. Julian.

For three years, I was Mrs. Sarah Davis-a title that meant nothing more than being a ghost in my own opulent home. My architect husband, Mark, kept our marriage a secret, a mere convenience while his heart belonged to another. The shattering truth unveiled itself in a hidden room: a shrine filled with portraits of Emily, his childhood sweetheart, his "one true love." I wasn't a wife; I was a placeholder, a warm bed until she returned. When Emily rejoined Mark's firm, his joy was palpable, his neglect of me complete. He spent endless nights by her side, leaving me invisible, my love unrequited, my existence dismissed. How could I have been so blind, so foolish, to waste three years on a man who could only offer polite indifference? The pain wasn't just his betrayal; it was my own self-inflicted wound, the slow erosion of my spirit. So, I devised a desperate plan-a carefully orchestrated deception designed to win my freedom. I would get his signature on a blank sheet of paper, and then the real work would begin. He wouldn't even know what hit him, consumed as he was by his public persona and his undying devotion to Emily. He would release me, even if he never truly saw me.

Everyone knew Ava Chen was just keeping Dr. Julian Vance' s spot warm. He, a brilliant Columbia astrophysicist; I, a New York financial analyst. We were dating, but his great love, my former best friend Chloe, was merely on fellowship, her return an unspoken ticking clock. The clock exploded the day Julian stood me up at City Hall for our marriage license. An Instagram story appeared instead: Julian, smiling, at Chloe' s surprise welcome-back party. My heart didn' t just break; it fractured into a dull, final ache. I shredded the marriage application. Later, Chloe brought a drunken Julian to my apartment, his subtle taunts confirming my place. He then whispered it: "Chloe." The ultimate affront. His cold, indifferent "Take the pill" solidified our transactional reality. I was a placeholder. My deep love unrequited, our relationship a cruel joke of neglect and manipulation. Why did I cling to a love that never truly saw me? But my tears turned to cold fury. I canceled wedding leave, applied for a senior analyst role in London. I would shed the "placeholder" and forge a fierce new beginning, on my own terms.