TESS WHITE
10 Published Stories
TESS WHITE's Books and Stories
The Broken King's Silent Obsession
Billionaires I am Cipher, an elite operative, but the world knows me as Evita Peck-the mute, illegitimate liability of a powerful political dynasty. To protect my sister and maintain my cover, I played the role of a fragile, broken doll, enduring my stepmother's abuse in silence.
Everything shattered at a high-stakes gala when my stepmother forced a drugged cocktail down my throat to sell me to a wealthy donor for campaign funds. Fighting the chemical haze, I fled to a restricted suite and collapsed into the arms of the one man I should have avoided: Jedidiah Stone, the paralyzed, reclusive "Broken King."
The drug stripped away my control, leading to a night of desperate passion with the man who was my family's greatest enemy. I escaped at dawn, but I accidentally left behind a bloodstain on his sheets and fled with a classified data chip hidden in his jacket, marking me as a target for the most dangerous security force in the city.
When I returned home, my mother slapped me for the "failed" deal and immediately announced I was being sold into a marriage alliance with the Stone family. Before I could process the horror, Julian Kensington-Jedidiah's deadliest rival-publicly claimed me as his secret fiancée, turning me into a pawn in their brutal corporate war.
I was trapped in a deadly tug-of-war between a man who wanted to use me as a shield and a man who was hunting for the "spy" who had breached his bed. I didn't know how much longer I could play the mute victim while the two most powerful men in the country fought to possess me.
The game reached a breaking point when Jedidiah invoked a "hostile asset acquisition" clause to legally force me to marry him instead of his cousin. Now, I am moving into the Stone estate, realizing that the man I am about to marry is the same man who has sworn to break the very woman I truly am. Woke Up Married To My Mysterious Boss
Modern I woke up to a rhythmic thumping against the wall of our luxury apartment. I thought it was just a nightmare, but when I pushed open the bedroom door, the reality was much worse.
My fiancé, Ignacio, was entangled with a blonde on the very sofa I had paid for three months ago. When he saw me, there was no guilt in his eyes, only cold annoyance.
"I'm bored of the 'good girl' act, Aria," he said, standing up with terrifying casualness. "And frankly, I'm bored of waiting for your stepfather's money to clear."
Before I could even process his words, he grabbed my arm and shoved me out into the hallway. He didn't let me grab my shoes or my phone. He just tossed my trench coat at my face and slammed the door, locking me out of my own life.
Barefoot and shivering in the October rain, I wandered into a speakeasy and drank until the world blurred. That’s where I met him—a man who looked like a prince and radiated a dangerous kind of power.
In a drunken, desperate haze, I asked him if he was for hire. I needed a husband to spite Ignacio, and he was the most expensive-looking man in the room.
"Marry me," I pleaded, and to my shock, he agreed. We hit a twenty-four-hour chapel, signed the papers, and I passed out in the back of his Maybach.
The next morning, I woke up in a penthouse on Billionaire’s Row. The man, Burke, stood there in a towel and handed me a bill for fifty thousand dollars for his "overnight services."
I was terrified. My family was bankrupt, I was homeless, and now I owed a massive debt to a high-end escort I had accidentally married in a blackout.
I fled to a job interview at Justice Group, hoping to earn enough to pay him off and disappear. But when I sat down in the waiting room, the "gigolo" was sitting right there, wearing a suit and holding a newspaper.
"Don't tell anyone we know each other," I hissed, thinking he was just another desperate applicant.
"Why? Ashamed of your husband?" he teased. Then the HR assistant called our names together, and I realized my nightmare was only just beginning. His Cruel Joke, My Broken Heart
Modern I did everything for Damian, my childhood best friend. His promise-"Get in shape, Lena, and I'll take you to prom"-was the only thing that mattered. I starved myself and ran until I collapsed, all for the future he dangled in front of me.
But on his birthday, clutching the cake I' d baked, I overheard the truth. The promise was a cruel joke. To him and his real girlfriend, Gigi, I was just a "fat pig" whose desperate attempts to impress him were "hilarious to watch."
They didn't stop there. They framed me for bullying, and Damian publicly denied ever caring for me. He then got my Stanford scholarship revoked with a malicious report and stood by as Gigi plastered my most private love letters all over school.
I became a pariah, a "delusional, conniving bitch." The boy I had loved my whole life, the one who was supposed to be my protector, had orchestrated my complete and utter destruction for a laugh.
Yet he still expected me to follow him to college. So when he called on move-in day, buzzing with excitement for our shared future, I let him ramble on about our plans. Then, I calmly cut through his fantasy.
"I'm not here, Damian." His Unwanted Mate: Awakening The White Wolf
Werewolf My parents spent eighteen years grooming me for one singular purpose: to be the mate of Jax Little, the future Alpha.
We grew up together, promising a hundred times that we would rule the Silver Moon Pack side by side.
But on the night of the Recognition Ritual, because my inner wolf was silent and I hadn't shifted yet, everything shattered.
Jax stood before the entire pack, looked at Catalina—a stranger in red silk—and then looked at me with cold, steel-gray eyes.
"I, Jax Little, reject you, Eliana Carter."
He didn't just break our bond; he let his new Luna destroy me.
When Catalina shoved me into a pool, he saved her instead of me.
When she framed me for an attack, causing me to fall onto deadly silver that seared my flesh like acid, he stepped over my convulsing body to comfort her fake tears.
He left me dying on the floor to soothe the woman who had tried to kill me.
I realized then that the boy who promised to protect me was dead. He prioritized ambition over love, treating me like a broken defect to be discarded.
I survived the silver, but I killed the girl who loved him.
I packed my bags and ran to New York City, believing I was wolfless and alone.
I didn't know that I wasn't a defect—I was a rare White Wolf waiting to wake up.
And I certainly didn't expect the most powerful Alpha on the East Coast to be waiting in the shadows, ready to burn the world down for me. The Billionaire Heiress's Unforeseen Marriage
Billionaires I am the sole heiress to a Texas oil empire. To protect me, my father adopted seven boys who were meant to be my future, and I was in love with their leader, Jax, my intended fiancé.
But it was all a lie. I overheard them confess they were only playing along to secure my fortune for Daisy-Mae, the girl Jax truly loved.
The humiliation was relentless. Daisy-Mae orchestrated a cattle stampede at our annual rodeo, nearly getting me killed, and Jax saved her first. He publicly shamed me at a charity gala, stealing my family’s honor and a hospital wing dedication for her after freezing my funds.
The final blow came at my birthday party, where a doctored video was broadcast to hundreds of guests, painting me as a violent, unhinged monster and her as the innocent victim.
He did it all for her. Even when I was about to expose Daisy-Mae's plot, he confessed to her crimes to protect her, then offered to marry me as a bribe to buy my silence.
He thought he still had power over me.
But in front of everyone, I looked him in the eye and delivered the killing blow.
"I stopped loving you a long time ago, Jax."
Then I turned to the one man who had defended me, Sterling Prescott, and announced, "The man I'm going to marry is him." The Ex-Wife's Ultimate Revenge
Billionaires The last thing my husband of twenty years, Jaxson Blake, gave me was a suicide note.
It wasn't for me. It was for Brinley Buchanan, his foster sister, the woman who had haunted our marriage from the very beginning.
He put a bullet through his head, and with his last breath, he gave our entire tech empire—my life’s work—to her and her family.
It was always her. She was the reason our child died, freezing to death in a broken-down car while Jaxson rushed to her side because she’d manufactured another crisis.
My whole life had been a war against her, a war I had already lost.
I closed my eyes, exhausted, and when I opened them again, I was a teenager. I was back in the group home, on the exact day the wealthy Blake family came to choose a child to foster.
Across the room, a boy with familiar, tormented eyes was staring right at me. Jaxson.
He looked just as shocked as I felt.
"Eva," he mouthed, his face pale. "I'm so sorry. I'll save you this time. I promise."
A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. The last time he promised to save me, our son ended up in a tiny coffin. Love's Deadly Second Chance
Billionaires The salt spray felt the same on my skin, a cold, familiar mist.
I stood on the deck of my private yacht, the Serenity, watching the turquoise water churn below.
This was where I died.
Not in a hospital bed, not in a car crash, but right here, in the middle of the ocean, because of the two people I thought I loved most – my fiancée, Chloe, and her precious artist, Alex.
The memory wasn' t a dream; it was a scar.
Pirates swarmed the deck, their jeering laughter echoing alongside Chloe' s cool, distant voice, telling them to hurry up.
She had a dinner reservation.
Alex, her childhood friend, had already been taken to safety while I was left to bleed out.
After I was gone, she poisoned me again, finding a way to get my fortune, dismembering my body to hide the evidence of her betrayal.
But then, a shock.
The universe, in its cruel way, gave me a second chance.
I was reborn, sent back to the start of this very day, on this very yacht, with every memory of my end searing in my mind.
"Liam, darling, are you even listening?"
Chloe' s voice cut through my thoughts, a beautiful, hollow sound I once adored.
She glided across the deck, pouting about the captain' s refusal to wait for Alex and his "masterpiece."
Alex, that talentless hack spray-painting rocks, whose "art" I'd funded for years to make her happy.
The same "art" that delayed our departure last time, costing me my life when the pirates attacked.
That naive, lovestruck fool of the past was gone.
Now, I knew her soul, and his.
My purpose was clear, simpler than mere survival.
I was here to collect a debt.
I looked at Chloe, my face a calm, placid mask.
"Whatever you want, Chloe."
Her triumphant smile was sickening.
She thought she' d won, as always.
She had no idea the game had just begun, and this time, I was setting the rules.
Suddenly, a siren blared, sharp and urgent.
A crew member, Tom, ran onto the deck, his face pale.
"Sir! Pirates! Three speedboats, approaching fast from the south!"
It was happening again.
The exact same moment, the exact same threat.
And for the first time, I felt a terrible, exhilarating certainty.
They had no idea what was coming. Wedding Eve Betrayal
Romance My bachelorette weekend in Napa was a dream, my wedding to Ethan just hours away.
I reached for what I thought was my tablet, but it was my bridesmaid Chloe’s – and her private blog was open.
"Ava's Wedding Eve – The Final Act."
Every entry was a chilling testament to her calculated cruelty.
Within moments, my fairytale crumbled.
My fiancé, Ethan, was rushing to comfort Chloe, barely acknowledging me.
My step-brother Derek accused me of threats.
My mentee Liam branded me a bully.
They all believed her staged tears, her false narratives, her perfect victim act.
I watched my closest relationships systematically destroyed by her lies.
How could everyone I loved, the men I trusted, be so utterly blind?
How could I, the bride-to-be, be framed as the manipulative villain overnight?
The sheer injustice was suffocating, a nightmare unfolding in broad daylight.
But I wouldn't stand by and let my life be stolen.
There, in the crowded bar, watching them turn against me, I declared the wedding off.
This wasn't the end; it was the beginning of my fight to expose the truth, no matter the cost. You might like
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. 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. 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 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. 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. Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
Cornelia I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting."
When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home.
Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name.
He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal.
I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing.
As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life. My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
Winnie Suchoff The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand.
Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn.
She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back. 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. I Signed the Divorce, He Lost Everything
Rabbit My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune.
For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me."
He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster.
He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous.
The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built. 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.
/0/18555/coverorgin.jpg?v=a02f17d0aeb4c183ed0b188518dfd794&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107487/coverorgin.jpg?v=89bd31da8b11f381c0c3565de5c811c7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106555/coverorgin.jpg?v=490e09a3cdffbd03eb259a804ef8066b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103385/coverorgin.jpg?v=2dd8c7e7401411b34155f88c83528c89&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102848/coverorgin.jpg?v=60e47362404e1ebdebf3d1ef9558aa20&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/93292/coverorgin.jpg?v=308d1ea3089d4f11402a5f9a8f20a1bd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90617/coverorgin.jpg?v=43957915b79e07a6f7a4fcd1535322c7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86128/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d158bcc2149138200a96507f586d888&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80872/coverorgin.jpg?v=dcc7d9319a55dd3d8ec74aa5f989a525&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18481/coverorgin.jpg?v=1217a76e33e432047d9efbbb6c141d78&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106591/coverorgin.jpg?v=7112ffc44f6337f03a03bec3d6824a38&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102860/coverorgin.jpg?v=fb1450ebea277ac6119b3b112743e9b6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105410/coverorgin.jpg?v=68bf1b78d60cae51b9e167ecf8a0a734&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101423/coverorgin.jpg?v=7bf1dc2685ee6e3097492f6899d4a76f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102856/coverorgin.jpg?v=b1608f8b252c671e4efe9a90343f3a01&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106250/coverorgin.jpg?v=e4e3d94e67e6bc16aef1c6b8ac1afa18&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101926/coverorgin.jpg?v=153b0a77281acb72488f5bb716ff50a3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101922/coverorgin.jpg?v=85446ccd5cc7810ecc42f10e6e51a892&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101424/coverorgin.jpg?v=bb859322a2b6ed17a7a183e399a0ef55&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/79054/coverorgin.jpg?v=248fd387f8a7ef06a95d551925555a22&imageMogr2/format/webp)