They don't play to win. They play to hurt. Sterling Academy's irresistible reputation all came crashing down last year when a list of the 'top thirty girls too...' had been anonymously published. Now recovering from the pits of hell the media dragged them through, the students at Sterling have been told to be silent. Not to talk of the list ever again; and thanks to new spiralling rumours, formal coming up, and the short term attention span of students. Everyone has started to move on. Almost everyone. Silence may be a deadly game, but Valè is willing to play, if it means revenge on those who created the list. And lucky for her, she has a pretty good idea. The Heartbreakers of Sterling. Caleb Delvaúx, Luca Cathans, Atlas McAllister and Sage Evander's. Forming a team of her own, Valè gets together a flawless group of girls that are equally starved for revenge...or a challenge. Revenge may be sweet. But heartbreak is sweeter. ______________________________ "We're not playing to win over social hierarchy. We're playing to hurt their hearts beyond fixability." fully edited *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ____________________________ #1- girlpower #1 - revenge #1- richgirls #1 - soccerboy #1 - richteens #1 - friendstoenemies #1 - freshreads #4 - richkids #10- blackmail #11 - friends #9 - teenage #12 - richboys #14 - privateschool #22 - girl #32 - drama

"Miri and I know nothing if not discretion." Through her work, Miriam Crawford's existence has stretched thousands of miles. After a year of suffocation, Miriam is sent to live at the Andersons' home, a decadent family full of admired and aspiring figures in academia. Alone in the lavish building, Miriam becomes acquainted with her employer's son, Levai Anderson. What will happen when neither can help but tread the line between self-preservation and sexual gratification? #1 in LDR #1 in finding #3 in employee #2 in feud #8 in good #8 in online #9 in fun #10 in interesting #9 in holiday #19 in older Cover made by giselle1090 <3 [[word count: 145,000 to 150,000]]

❝Violet tell me to stop and I will ❞ the feeling of his soft lips igniting flames throughout my body, my lower half becoming warmer every second I felt the delicacy of his touch. "Enzo" I couldn't bring myself to say stop simply because I didn't want him to. I wanted his hands roaming over my body while he held my neck thrusting into me. The erection I feel on my thigh made my mind wonder off. Pinching my hip I moaned lowly when he hooked my legs around his waist. "That's not telling me to stop amore" removing my shirt over my head his lips latched onto my swollen nipples, my hands shot in the softness that was his black hair. "Tell me what you want" "Fuck me Enzo" ᥊ 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 needed the money to pay for her mother's expensive treatments, dancing for a man like Enzo wouldn't be good for her and she knew this. He would be the chaos in her life but she was too addicted to it. 𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎 understood the consequences it would bring if he got involved with Violet more than what she already was, that was his dancer and nobody else's. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ❦ Highest Ranking! #1 in cocky #2 in passion

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN