ouyang zishu slapped

“Please, let me go…” I cried while he kept walking forward towards me, making me shiver more. While his eyes fixated on me, he brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply while I gulped. As he exhaled, a slow stream of smoke escaped his lips, dissipating into the air and he started, “You shouldn’t have done that… You did a big mistake” “I am sorry…” I cried again and shook my head. “It’s done. It’s time for the punishment now…” He said and my heart skipped a beat. . Allison Wesley was living a normal life as a journalist until she gets involved into a task which leads her to slap the mafia boss in town. Her one mistake gets her life upside down as she enters the world of thrill, excitement, passion and danger. Read on to find out more!

The ever stoic Mr. Fu was finally married, but rumor has it that he set a house rule on their first night with his new wife. "Know your place, and don't covet what you can never get. "We'll never interfere in each other lives." Bai Yu, dressed in her pure-white bridal gown, merely agreed to it cheerfully while she sat on the bed, "Sure." The whole city knew that Fu Yunzhe hated his wife, but no one mocked her for it, because there was a man beneath her feet, his face swollen while she smiled confidently, "Come now, say it again—who is a ghost wife?" She arrived, dressed in a dazzling red dress later at a certain banquet. Mr. Fu who arrived at the banquet hall saw her chatting lively with an unfamiliar man. He strode up to her and took her by the waist, whispering into her ear, "Are you making me a cuckold in public, Mrs. Fu?" Bai Yu calmly pushed him away. "It's just typical socializing. Why are you so worried, Mr. Fu?" Upset written all over his face, Mr. Fu took off his coat and covered her bareback. "No wearing skirts that short from now on. And who are these people at this banquet..." The woman, fiddling with her fair fingers, lifted a brow. "Are you meddling with my affairs now, Mr. Fu?" The man's heart skipped a beat. Remembering the ruleset on their first night, he promptly changed his words, "I was worried that you'd catch a cold!"

"Slapped at first Sight" followed the story of an eighteen years old lady played by Xheilyn Ruthway to be fell in a lying scheme to predict the fate of perfectionist and powerful Taerror Younstown made by her Mother,keep track of them as how they both fell In love beyond of their mysterious past!

I used to think school was just school. Until the day Fat Tiger beat me on the classroom floor while my homeroom teacher watched in silence. Until my “friends” told me to pay protection fees and stay quiet. Until my parents ripped my review books . That was the day I learned: in this world, nobody saves you. Bullied, humiliated, mocked as “trash,” I clawed my way up from the bottom— waking at 3 a.m., studying until my vision went black, copying borrowed notes, rebuilding everything after Fat Tiger burned my notebook, and fighting through sickness, exhaustion, and despair. Every step was a fist in my face. Every day felt like walking through hell. But I didn’t break. I rose. From 450… to 500… to 550… and on the day of the college entrance exam— I scored 630. The class fell silent. The teacher who called me “hopeless” couldn’t speak. The bullies who laughed at me collapsed in disbelief. Years later, I returned to this school —not as a student, but as the Director of Academic Affairs. For one reason: To make sure no kid is ever abandoned the way I was. This is not a story about genius. This is a story about a boy who refused to stay on the ground. A story about pain, dignity, revenge, and rebirth. Every child deserves to be seen. And this time, I’m the one standing tall.

Han Lixia was forced to come back to her home town after six years of studying aboard. Little did she know the reason behind her grand father call is to hand her inheritance from her decreased father to her uncle. Something she already has a guess and she was more than gladly to hand over for equivalent exchange. But, they are away too greedy. Ouyang Jue, handsome, rich and tall. He is the rule of B city. A business mogul that could cover the sky with one hand. Their first encounter was an accident. The second she fell on him from a tree. The third he set her house on fire. ~~~ "You burnt my house. You burnt my bed. So your bed is mine." she said when he gave her a tour on his house. She tried to close the door of the mater bedroom but failed as he held it with one hand. "Then let's share the bed. I don't mind." he said in a light manner. Like he forget that he is a germophobia. A sly smile was played on his gorgeous face. "Let's go to bed, it is alredy late." she opened the door daring him to come in.

"I said, stop!" I pointed my finger at him, my eyes emitting fire and brimstone. The crowd hushed, and everyone gave their full attention to me. Even the guards who stood around the corners in their badged, white uniforms, hung their mouths open, staring at me. "Are you looking for me, little miss?" he asked, lifting one brow at me, followed by a smirk. To him, I may look like a teen because I was skin and bones. I wore a black, denim jeans, a cream top tucked beneath its hip band. With my high ponytail dancing to the rhythm of my hurried steps, I lifted my head high--my eyes never leaving his face. "I am." He tilted his head in an amused smile, letting his guard off. The moment I was a few feet away from him, I planted my toes forward. Now standing some inches higher than me, I didn't say a word. I swung my arm and let my right hand fly across his face, leaving him dumbfounded! Author's Note: Book cover from Pexels Free Photos Artist : mododeolhar Cover titles worked on Canva.com

Anabella Clinton's heart never belonged to her. It belonged to her family. That's how it always was. If they needed something, she was the one who gave it up. No questions. So when her mom and dad made her go have dinner with Carter Sterling — this rich heir who kept looking at her like she was some dress on a rack with a price tag — she didn't even argue. Just sat there and took it. She smiled when she was supposed to. She obeyed. That's what good daughters did. And then, after that awful dinner, she went out to the dark garden to breathe. He was there. Waiting in the shadows by the roses. He wasn't like the boys inside at all. He was quiet. The type that barely talks but you can feel his eyes on you the whole time, you know? His hands were not soft. They were rough, worked, calloused. And he was holding a single red rose. One rose. For Anabella No one had ever done that. Not without wanting something. And for a second, just one second, she felt something real. Something that was hers. Hailey Miller ruined it. Hailey found out about the art school application, the one she did behind her mother's back, the one dream she kept hidden in a drawer. Anabella was so scared. So terrified of losing the only dream she ever had. Her hands were shaking so bad. So she did it — she walked right up to him with everyone watching and hit him across the face, hard. God, she can still hear that slap sometimes at night when she tries to sleep. And then the rose, the one he gave her like it meant something, she just dropped it on the cold ground and put her foot on it. She kept grinding it with her heel, not stopping, while everyone around them took out their phones and filmed the whole thing. She broke him. The only boy who ever offered her kindness without a price. Five years go by and everything she knew just collapses. Her dad is lying in a hospital bed sick. He needs an operation and they don't have the money. Her brother, he owes money to some very dangerous people. The kind of people who don't care if you are sorry. And the person who holds the papers to their house, to everything they own, is not a stranger. You know who it is. It's the boy from the garden. He is not that quiet boy anymore though. Now? He's a billionaire. And not the nice kind. Ruthless. The kind where the whole city knows his name and nobody would ever dare to mess with him. He tells her he will fix everything for her family. Hospital bills, all of it, he will pay. But he wants something in return. Her. Not money. Her. For one year she has to be the woman on his arm, his fiancée. And out in public, she has to sell it — like she's madly, completely in love with him, like she can't breathe without him. She has to obey him, absolutely. Smile. Hold his hand. Be the perfect devoted girl for the cameras. He tells her he does not want her body. That is not what this is about. He wants her submission. He wants to see her pretend. But what happens when the pretending doesn't feel like pretending anymore? What happens when his hand on her back feels warm and his fake touches make her breath catch? What happens when she realizes she is not acting at all? The thing that scares her most at 2am, the thought that won't leave her alone, is this — what if this monster she just gave herself to is actually the only person who ever looked at her and really saw her? The real her underneath? That night back in the garden, he never forgot it. He hasn't forgotten the rose she crushed. And now he is back to collect.

“Smack!” A sharp slap landed across my face. Right there at the gynecology clinic doorway, with people coming and going through the hospital, Dorothy Ford raised her hand and slapped me in front of everyone. “This one’s another money-losing girl! Nathan must’ve racked up eight lifetimes of bad karma to end up marrying you!” Throwing out those words, she turned on her heel and walked away. I bit down hard on my teeth, one hand holding my six-month belly as I stood there, feeling everyone’s pitying gazes on me. I still couldn’t hold back my tears. Before we got married, I already knew Dorothy didn’t like me. But Nathan had always treated me so well that, despite everyone’s objections, I insisted on marrying him when he still didn’t have a dime to his name. Our first child was a girl. The moment the baby was born, Dorothy’s face turned to stone and she started making those snide, nasty remarks. Now I was pregnant again, and we’d just done the ultrasound. Another girl. This time, Dorothy completely lost it. I had no choice but to call Nathan, hoping for at least a little comfort from him. But the line was busy, over and over—he was on another call. So I took a cab home by myself. When I got there, the front door was ajar. I was just about to step inside when I heard voices in the living room and saw Dorothy sitting there with my husband. “Nathan, you have to make your wife get rid of this baby! A useless woman who can’t give you a son will cut off the Ford family line!” My whole body started shaking with anger. Dorothy actually wanted me to have an abortion. Even if the baby in my belly was a girl, she was still her own granddaughter. It’s not like the Fords have some damn throne to inherit—why the hell do they have to have a son?

The incident of my stepfather's daughter hiring someone to write her competition essay was exposed, and she went ballistic in my room. My mom couldn’t calm her down, and then slapped me across the face. "If you hadn’t written those things, your sister wouldn’t be getting all this hate!" I touched the spot where she hit me, my head lowered, but a smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I had been waiting for this day for a long time.

In the fourth year of my marriage to Derek Holloway, my mother-in-law and I swapped souls. When she clung to my husband, sobbing that cooking was too exhausting and that we needed to hire a maid, I stood to the side, face cold, and snapped at her loudly. “You think my son’s money grows on trees? You can’t even cook a simple meal—what the hell use are you?” When she blushed with shame and reached out to my husband for a hundred dollars to buy groceries, I slapped her hard across the face. “You need a hundred bucks just to buy groceries? You think my son earns money that easily?” Watching her clutch her stinging cheek and break down in tears, I laughed out loud, feeling deliciously satisfied. Hadn’t she always treated me exactly like that—hitting and scolding me whenever she pleased?