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Vintage Horror

More Than A Baby Mama: Less Than A Wife (A Vintage Love)

There's nothing more important than love, Mila always told herself. Even when her boyfriend cheated on her and accused her of stealing, leading to her being fired, Mila still held onto her belief. For a 24-year-old young woman to survive in a big city where she knew nobody but her cheating boyfriend, Mila had to look for work elsewhere not just anywhere, but The Montclair Club. For one night, she served as a salesperson for the launch of a new wine. As the saying goes, (In vino veritas) Truth in wine. Mila's truth was letting her hair down and having fun just for one night. The innocent woman had her own taste of a 'one wild night.' The result? A positive pregnancy test. Mila became pregnant by the hot-tempered, international playboy and heir of the Montclair Conglomerate, from a family of old money. Zyran Ciro Montclair is known to have a special hatred for the words family and poor. He only believes that the poor are leeches and liars. At the moment, the luxury of pride wasn't something Mila could afford. Jobless, pregnant, and left alone in the big city, Mila decided to go after her baby's daddy. Even if he might reject her, she had to try. And somehow, in her pursuit, she ended up on the early morning news: 'Noblesse Oblige: Montclair Heir to Marry an Unknown Poor Country Girl. It's giving Rich Prince and The Pauper. A 21st-century Fairytale.' What could possibly go wrong? you may ask. Stepping into the rarefied and unhinged world of the Montclairs, Mila realized that their realm wasn't the same as her world of black and white. Her perception of life was turned upside down, and she couldn't help but wonder. What could be so poisonous yet so good as power and money? Will Mila's love endure when faced with Zyran's 12 rules for their marriage, including the humiliating demand of: Rule No 6: “Submission is key: When I say kneel, you'll drop to all fours. Don't question it, just obey.” Will she allow herself to be consumed by the corruption that comes with wealth, or will she spread her innocence and show Zyran a world where people don't have to be used? Can their love survive the poisonous influences of power and money? . . . . . . Instagram account: Pluma_W143 Facebook page: Plumadidi Tiktok: @Plumadidi Cover belongs to me. Art by Kelveendraws
Pluma_W143 · 37.1K Views

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DISCLAIMER: This story is not owned by me. All rights belong to the original author and copyright holder. This copy is provided for offline reading purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended, and if the rightful owner requests removal, it will be taken down immediately. The washed-up magician Zong Jiu transmigrated into a horror, infinite flow novel about a survival show, taking the place of the cannon fodder who died tragically in the first evaluation round. This show was very interesting. Out of the tens of thousands of people, only a hundred people could survive, and the c-position (strongest contender) could even get a universal wish ticket. If it were someone else, they’d probably be scared to death. No one expected that Zong Jiu was not only unafraid, but also caused a sensational stir, shamelessly showing off his tricks the whole way. Once his tricks stopped, and his life could be considered safe and sound, he ended up in a rivalry with the novel’s big villain. Today you try to get at me, tomorrow I’ll get you back, back and forth, it’s pretty fun, heh. As a result, though it was just playing around, one time they got carried away and really did end up sleeping together. Watching the nemesis who was pressing him to the ground, Zong Jiu lazily lifted his gaze. “If you want to kill me then kill me, don’t speak nonsense.” Even when at a disadvantage, he showed no trace of fear, and actually continued to provoke him. That person used his ice-cold finger to trace his ear, and the action heading toward the aorta suddenly stopped. “What a pity. I’ve changed my mind.” — He was once very willing to personally give Zong Jiu death. Every day, he used to regret not gouging out his flesh, personally snapping his neck. But after this person fell into his hands, another, more urgent desire grew like weeds. Compared to winning or losing, he would rather see him crying and panting, with eyes red, begging for mercy.
zarawang · 6.7K Views
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