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Get the APPLovesick Beggar
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Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father
I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."Chapter 1
The cobblestone was cold, and my clothes had been torn to shreds by four men. I clung desperately to the remaining fabric, curling up to prevent them from ripping away my last shred of dignity.
A crowd had gathered around me, watching my humiliation with eager eyes and discussing it with relish.
"I heard she used to be the top performer at Moonview, insisting she would only perform, not sell her body."
"Look at that figure, much more alluring than any courtesan."
"This Laura is truly a beauty. If she hadn't offended Krista, with her prideful nature, we wouldn't have the pleasure of this spectacle today."
"Poor Laura. She worked as a performing artist to support Andrew's studies, but once he became the top scholar of the nation, he turned his back on her and climbed up to the princess..."
"Are you crazy? How dare you say that!" someone nearby whispered urgently.
"Her skin is so fair. If I could just touch it, it would be heavenly."
"And that slender waist, I heard dancers are very flexible, they can do any position."
The lewd comments pierced me like daggers. The crowd's heads bobbed in front of me, some laughing obscenely, others pointing at me, watching my torment as if it were a show.
Yes, death. I wished for death more than anything.
Death would be a release.
Death would turn me into a vengeful spirit, seeking retribution from Andrew and that woman.
I forced my head up, glaring at Krista and Andrew sitting on the high platform.
Krista's lips curled into a smile as she teasingly touched Andrew's face. Andrew, with his eyes closed, trembled uncontrollably.
"Andrew, if she becomes a woman everyone can mistreat, you won't think of her anymore, will you?"
"She's been seen by thousands now. Who would want her in the future?"
Andrew's hands were bloodied from clenching them so tightly. He crawled on his knees to Krista, pressing his forehead to her feet. "My heart belongs only to Princess Krista. I have never loved that woman, not even a little. Please believe me, Your Highness!"
His voice was loud, as if he wanted everyone to hear his declaration.
He said he never loved me, not even a little.
So it was all a lie.
I entered the brothel and became a performing artist to support his studies.
I refused to become a courtesan, remaining chaste for him.
I rehearsed tirelessly every day, never slacking off.
I believed his tender promises: if he became the top scholar, he would marry me.
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My Formidable Beggar Husband
Here’s the translation of your text into English: --- Andrew became the top scholar of the nation, and immediately turned his back on me, becoming Krista's subordinate. Krista, jealous of Andrew's lingering feelings for me, forced me to become a prostitute in front of everyone. The countless stare/0/83473/coverorgin.jpg?v=1a14b6186d008b59b919ce115327a71f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Lovesick Fool to Legend
The Texas sun beat down on the sprawling ranch, but nothing could dim the radiant joy of my wedding day. Hundreds of guests watched, fanning themselves, as I stood at the altar, eyes fixed on Savannah, my vision in white lace. This was it, the culmination of my dreams, the moment our lives would b/0/32307/coverorgin.jpg?v=2c3fe8b192b6c44be058dee6c5938abc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
One Night Stand With That Beggar
"Let go of me!" "You're asking me to let go of you? Weren't you the one who took the initiative that night?" Amos Granger's words struck her like a bolt of lightning. "What? I don't know what you're talking about." "Woman..." Amos gently pinched Eudora's chin. "There isn't a woman in this world who/1/100405/coverorgin.jpg?v=acda0fc1e5d160a52e5156a78186f49d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Given to a Beggar: A Marriage's Darkest Secret
After eight years of marriage, Claudia sacrificed her own treatment and gave up her dance career to save Dylan, leaving her with a permanent leg injury-and ultimately becoming a gilded bird confined beneath his wings. She felt trapped like a cherished, yet confined trophy, enduring the cold intim/1/105650/coverorgin.jpg?v=f335127dc3ef40a00a6b5af645cef54a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
