EstelleCramail
11 Published Stories
EstelleCramail's Books and Stories
Bound By Revenge: His Unwilling Wife
Modern I was suffocating in a borrowed Valentino gown at the Met Gala, but it wasn't the corset that was killing me. It was the debt collector, Vargo, stalking me through the crowd like a wolf.
Desperate to hide, I ducked into a private lounge and threw myself at the silhouette of a man sitting in the shadows, pressing my lips to his in a frantic plea for cover. When I pulled back, the air turned to ice; I was staring into the ocean-blue eyes of Kingsley Osborn, the billionaire who believed I’d sold his company secrets six years ago.
Kingsley didn’t save me; he trapped me. The next morning, he slid a "Marriage Service Agreement" across his desk, revealing he knew everything about my father’s illegal Ponzi scheme and the quarter-million dollars I owed to loan sharks. He offered to pay my debts and protect my father, but only if I signed over two years of my life to be his trophy wife.
"I don't want your money, Cassidy. I want your life."
The marriage was a cold, calculated war. He forced me into his glass fortress, banned me from contacting my friends, and treated me with a distilled hatred that felt like a physical weight. When I accidentally broke his grandfather’s vintage watch during a nightmare, he didn't see an accident—he saw a crime, threatening to destroy my father if I didn't "charm" his board of directors into submission.
I was a prisoner in a three-piece suit, until I found a mislabeled file buried in his company’s server. It contained evidence of a massive, illegal hostile takeover that would ruin Kingsley if the Feds ever saw it.
I held the gun that could destroy the man who had cornered me. But as I looked at the champagne roses he’d secretly kept from my "peace offering," I realized I didn't want to pull the trigger. I wanted to see how far he’d go to keep me from leaving. The Perfect Victim: Playing The Billionaire's Game
Modern I was the crown jewel of the Harmon family until the trust fund froze and my world turned to ash. Now, I’m just a girl in a vintage dress I can’t afford, standing in a crowded club, waiting to destroy the man who thinks he owns me.
Everything changed when my ex-fiancé, Carter Sterling, didn't just break our engagement, but blocked the money meant for my brother’s medical care. He wanted to see me crawl back to him, broken and desperate, so he could remind me that I was nothing without his name.
I didn't crawl; I staged a masterpiece of a breakdown. I shattered glass, screamed about his cruelty, and cowered on the floor until the entire city saw him as the monster he truly was. Carter’s reputation was dead within minutes, but the victory felt hollow because I was still penniless and alone in the cold rain.
I realized that in this world, being a victim is just a role you play until you’re strong enough to become the villain. I was tired of being hunted by dogs like Carter, and I knew the only way to survive was to walk straight into the lion’s den.
I stood at the iron gates of the Grimes estate, soaked to the bone and clutching a secret that could bring the city to its knees. Isadore Grimes is a man who eats people like Carter for breakfast, and I didn't come to him for mercy.
"I’m not here for your money," I told him as the security cameras zoomed in on my face. "I'm here to offer you a better deal than your fiancée ever could."
I wasn't just planning to get my inheritance back. I was going to steal the life of the woman who tried to destroy me, one calculated move at a time. Contract Bride: Rising From The Shadows
Modern I was hired to be the "cure" for the Stuart family’s reputation, a wife whose only job was to manage the emotional risks of Casper Stuart’s cold-blooded empire. My life was governed by spreadsheets and compliance reports, and my value was measured solely by my ability to remain a silent, perfect asset.
On our second anniversary, Casper didn't come home for dinner; instead, a Page Six alert showed him with a Victoria's Secret model at Soho House, his hand possessively on her back.
When he finally returned, he didn't offer an apology, but a clinical reminder of my "obligations." I soon discovered he had given my three-million-dollar anniversary bonus—a pink diamond necklace—to his mistress, while tossing me a cheap bracelet his assistant had picked out. When his mother offered me a two-hundred-million-dollar settlement to disappear, Casper tore the contract to shreds in front of me. He whispered that he had bought up every cent of my family’s medical and gambling debts, turning my marriage into a life sentence of indentured servitude. To prove his power, he kicked me out of his car in a rainstorm twenty miles from the city, leaving me to walk home barefoot while he drove off with my dog.
"Tell her you want to stay," he had commanded in front of his mother, using my mother’s life as leverage to keep his "portfolio" intact.
I stood in the mud, shivering as the rain washed away the mask of the supportive wife, realizing that to the Stuarts, I wasn't a human being—I was a line item that could be liquidated or crushed at will.
But Casper forgot one thing: I am an actress, and I’ve finally landed the role of a lifetime. I’m done managing his risks; I’m about to become his greatest liability. The Unlikely Ally's Vengeance
Romance A faint blue line on a pregnancy test confirmed the dream I' d nurtured for four years: twins.
I, Sarah Miller, an architect, was about to surprise Mark Johnson, the man I loved, the man who had pulled me from the wreckage of grief after my parents' suspicious death, the man whose real estate empire I had meticulously helped build.
But when I reached the exclusive downtown club, laughter spilled from the private room, and a voice asked, "When are you and Lisa Chen making it official?"
My world shattered as Mark' s confident voice, stripped of all warmth, replied, "Sarah? Sarah was a means to an end. A very useful tool."
Then came the true horror: "She has no idea I was the one who made sure that old farmhouse of hers had a little electrical \'accident.\' Best investment I ever made."
He killed them. The man I loved, my savior, was my parents' murderer.
Everything I believed was a lie. The twins I carried, conceived in a deceit, were just leverage for him, a means to an heir Lisa couldn' t provide.
The overwhelming betrayal, coupled with a searing pain in my abdomen, sent my vision blurring. I stumbled out into the cold, hard rain, racing toward my parents' graves, only to collapse in a pool of blood.
The hospital confirmed my worst fear: I had lost the babies.
I lay there, numb and broken, until a nurse revealed my unlikely rescuer: David Johnson, Mark' s estranged uncle, the man Mark had ruthlessly driven out of his own family business. He was the one who collected my cracked phone, its wallpaper a perfect picture of a perfect lie, with his stern, disapproving gaze in the background – a witness I had always ignored.
This man, haunted by the same demon, would become my unlikely ally. Mark had taken everything from me: my parents, my children, my name, my work. Now, I would take it all back. Beyond the Polo Grounds: A Billionaire's Downfall
Romance My marriage to Andrew Blakely was built on cold hard cash, not love. Our only connection was our daughter, Annabel.
Then came the call that shattered my world: Annabel' s charter plane crashed. She was gone.
But Andrew, her supposed father, was partying with his mistress, Gabrielle, dismissing my agony as a "dramatic stunt." He hung up on me, laughing.
My grief didn't turn to tears. It turned into a chilling calm, a primal urge for retribution. Thanks to an old pact and a loyal friend, Ethan, secrets started to unravel.
The security footage showed Annabel, terrified, forced onto that doomed plane by two men. And lurking in the shadows, a smug smile on her face, was Gabrielle. This wasn't an accident. It was a calculated murder.
When Andrew and Gabrielle publicly disrespected Annabel again at a charity gala, even destroying the last tangible piece of her, he shoved me to the ground. That' s when it became clear: he actively shielded her killer.
My daughter's room was emptied, all traces of her erased by Andrew's mother. They left me nothing. But they had no idea what they' d just unleashed.
I walked back into that glittering gala and served Andrew divorce papers. He signed them without a glance, desperate to be rid of me, unaware he' d just handed me the keys to his entire empire. My revenge had officially begun. The Jilted Wife's Ultimate Comeback
Modern My marriage to Harrison Sterling III was a political merger, a meticulously designed union between two powerful D.C. dynasties.
I was Ellie Vance Sterling, the poised, pragmatic wife, dedicated to power and legacy, not fleeting romance.
Everything changed when Harry was "rescued" by Skyler Reed, a common waitress who boldly followed him back to our world.
She was loud, disruptive, and claimed Harry's love, threatening to expose our family's carefully crafted image.
When Skyler triumphantly announced her pregnancy, I calmly declared my own, ensuring my son's place as the legitimate heir.
But the true horror unfolded when I discovered a secret: an "heirloom" bracelet, given to me and other Sterling wives, actually contained compounds to suppress fertility.
It meant my accidental breakage of the bracelet allowed my conception, revealing a chilling family conspiracy to control who bore heirs.
Then came the fire, deliberately set in my wing of the house-a terrifying attempt to erase me and my unborn son from existence.
How could my own husband, bound by contract and public duty, attempt such a heinous act?
The revelation shattered any remaining illusion of family loyalty, replacing it with a burning certainty of cold-blooded betrayal.
With my son's life and our dynastic future at stake, I made my decision: I would invoke the Vance family's formidable protection, rise from these ashes, and secure my child's legacy, no matter the brutal cost. The Husband's Hidden Empire
Romance Our tenth anniversary was supposed to be a romantic surprise, a special night at a chic downtown hotel.
Instead, I found Ethan there, shirtless on the edge of the bed, with Chloe, a young woman barely out of college, looking flustered in a hotel robe.
My world shattered as his gaze flickered, murmuring it was a "drunken mistake."
Then, Chloe dramatically wailed about her lost virginity, prompting Ethan to declare he "had to be responsible" for her, completely dismissing our ten years together.
The betrayal deepened when I later found their chat messages, exposing years of calculated financial deception and mockery: he' d let me fund our life on my teacher's salary, all while he and Chloe secretly built a multi-million-dollar gaming empire.
The final, depraved blow came in a package: my old miscarriage records, alongside the meticulously preserved body of Whiskers, my beloved cat who' d vanished months prior.
I collapsed, the world spinning, battling a raging fever that blurred days into a nightmarish delirium.
How could the man I cherished, the partner I poured my entire heart and savings into, be capable of such chilling cruelty, such a systematic destruction of my sanity and life?
But as I drifted close to death, clinging to the unwavering comfort of my old flame, Liam, a fierce, cold spark ignited within me.
I wasn't just Sarah, Ethan's victim; I was Sarah, and I was going to fight back, expose their lies, reclaim my stolen future, and finally find my way home. New Orleans' Burning Heart
Mafia New Orleans was a powder keg, teetering on the brink of explosion.
I, Isabelle "Izzy" Beaumont, the Mayor's daughter, believed I could save it.
I offered myself in a desperate union to Jackson "Jax" Moreau, the charismatic gang leader I once loved, hoping to bridge the chasm between our warring worlds.
But Jax's "union" was a brutal charade.
He betrayed me, wiping out my family – my father mauled by his dogs, my brother crushed, my mother shamed to death.
I became his prisoner, forced to watch as New Orleans burned and my world crumbled.
Confined to a crumbling outbuilding, I endured constant torment.
He even ordered the abortion of our unborn child.
My former best friend, Clara, became his new queen, wearing my dead mother's necklace, reveling in my humiliation.
All the while, a silent curse, a "living decay," gnawed at me, slowly consuming my life.
Why this relentless hatred?
Why did he ignore my silent suffering, my hidden sacrifice, claiming I was only paying for "my family's sins"?
Didn't he remember when I' d dared to enter the dark bayou for him?
It took me coughing up blood and collapsing, my body finally failing, for an ancient healer to appear.
She revealed the impossible truth: the insidious curse eating me alive was the secret price I paid years ago, to save his life from a deadly cottonmouth bite.
With my last breaths, can this shattering realization break the monster he's become, or is it simply too late for redemption in the ashes of our destroyed love? You might like
He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.
*****
"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
Rabbit My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool.
For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office.
The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation.
My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order.
Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve.
Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one. Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir
Shirlee Melnick Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit.
The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena.
This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone. Burned By Him, Reborn A Star
Rabbit The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack."
Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard.
The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn.
"Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress. Abandoned Wife, Billionaire Revenge
Rabbit My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world.
Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage.
An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity.
The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity.
How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation.
Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free. 
/0/94324/coverorgin.jpg?v=f871ccea958724f2bd2a0cb8a69440af&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/108024/coverorgin.jpg?v=742ef2fc31267ccce40f5935df99689b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107955/coverorgin.jpg?v=fb80f1df5f34186d6647cb9ec7f6ed1a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107839/coverorgin.jpg?v=74800027261520c228ec254fd3ecffa7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107442/coverorgin.jpg?v=78f1d959f2d13af63b2301df297f12bc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84875/coverorgin.jpg?v=cb492ec1ed9c4c9f7067cefacaf17634&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84407/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d8e960f34b065e39a6cc4ab29ce587e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83263/coverorgin.jpg?v=d435dcaf561ded076b872ae9b7666a0a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83084/coverorgin.jpg?v=9c9964748cb1bac943a8568b99b36609&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82318/coverorgin.jpg?v=ae03cbd3d449ed99ea83ab1ebf9d9b02&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/22700/coverorgin.jpg?v=3dcc07d787b3e1ed56e75f2d1d6c8abd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102860/coverorgin.jpg?v=fd4279179a94dd229627ce7640bf190d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102856/coverorgin.jpg?v=ab447bb3dfea8a92331d6f2abd61bff7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106591/coverorgin.jpg?v=60130d2fb865880aba4658a48f41a951&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101423/coverorgin.jpg?v=46b8ac4ba2161e0b69a9b73304ac43c3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105410/coverorgin.jpg?v=a5437111c15a40b1920987fddb1ddf34&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/79054/coverorgin.jpg?v=248fd387f8a7ef06a95d551925555a22&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101927/coverorgin.jpg?v=51f6847b2406445f6142e9710ec1d533&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101428/coverorgin.jpg?v=a6edc7fa863c44c8d677b68f6b8753a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101922/coverorgin.jpg?v=85446ccd5cc7810ecc42f10e6e51a892&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101418/coverorgin.jpg?v=d2f85018e2899e922621a98046c4cb2c&imageMogr2/format/webp)