• Affordable Land For Sale in Asaba: Obodo Amaka Phase 2, Ogwashi-Uku!
    A NEW BEAUTY IN TOWN!
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    Located in Ogwashi-Uku, a fast-growing area within the Asaba Capital Territory

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    Call: 0806 280 1423
    WhatsApp: 0802 317 2357
    Email: sainttheophilus@yahoo.com
    Visit: el-doradohomes.com
    Subscribe for More: YouTube - El Dorado Homes Nigeria

    Don’t Miss Out!
    This is more than land — it's a lifestyle and a generational wealth opportunity. Secure your plots today and watch your investment flourish tomorrow!

    Like | Comment | Subscribe | Share!

    Hashtags for Maximum Reach:
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    🌟 Affordable Land For Sale in Asaba: Obodo Amaka Phase 2, Ogwashi-Uku! 🌟 🚨 A NEW BEAUTY IN TOWN! 🚨 Welcome to Obodo Amaka Phase 2, Ogwashi-Uku, in the heart of Asaba Capital Territory — the ultimate destination for smart investors and future homeowners. Whether you're buying for living, investing, or reselling, Obodo Amaka offers unbeatable value! 📍 Prime Location Located in Ogwashi-Uku, a fast-growing area within the Asaba Capital Territory Excellent proximity to key infrastructures and booming developments 💰 Limited Pre-Launch Offer Pre-Launch Price: Only ₦1.5M (Act fast before it skyrockets!) Actual Price: ₦2.8M Special Promo: BUY 5 PLOTS, GET 1 PLOT FREE! 🎁 🏡 Estate Features ✔️ Excellent Road Network ✔️ Properly Planned Layout ✔️ Fully Secured Environment ✔️ Gated Estate with Gatehouse ✔️ Serene and Organized Community 🏆 Why You Should Invest Now Massive property appreciation expected! Ideal for residential, commercial, and rental developments. Limited plots available — first come, first served! 🛎 Schedule Your Free Inspection Today! 📞 Call: 0806 280 1423 💬 WhatsApp: 0802 317 2357 📧 Email: sainttheophilus@yahoo.com 🌐 Visit: el-doradohomes.com 📺 Subscribe for More: YouTube - El Dorado Homes Nigeria 📢 Don’t Miss Out! This is more than land — it's a lifestyle and a generational wealth opportunity. Secure your plots today and watch your investment flourish tomorrow! 👉 Like | 👍 Comment | 🔔 Subscribe | ✨ Share! 📢 Hashtags for Maximum Reach: #LandForSaleAsaba #ObodoAmakaEstate #AffordableLandInAsaba #OgwashiUkuProperties #RealEstateAsaba #InvestInLand #BuyLandAsaba #RealEstateNigeria #AsabaLandInvestment #PropertyForSale #ElDoradoHomes
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  • She THREW Her NEWBORN BABY Off the BRIDGE Into the River Because... Episode 1

    For 20 years, Johnny and his wife, Binta, lived in a quiet house by the river in the small town of Faju. Despite the years of marriage, their home was silent—no cries of children, no sounds of joy. Just the whisper of the river behind their house. Every morning, before the sun had fully risen, Binta would walk to the riverbank, kneel, and gently touch her stomach. Her words would drift into the wind, "Oh gods of the land, give me a child before I die." The pain in her voice was always the same. Every day. Rain or shine. No answer.

    Johnny sat quietly behind her, no longer pleading. He had given up on hope, his heart weary from the weight of unfulfilled prayers. The townspeople whispered behind their backs, some saying, "Her womb is locked with a padlock." Others mocked, "Maybe it’s Johnny. He eats his children in his dreams." But Binta and Johnny never spoke of these things. They just kept trying.

    From one doctor to another, the verdict was always the same: medically, there was nothing wrong. Desperate, they sought help from prayer houses and prophets. Binta endured fiery prayers, fainting after each session. Nothing changed. Not even bitter herbs from a native doctor could help. The years passed, and the silence in their home grew louder.

    One day, in their 15th year of marriage, they met a man who claimed to have the answer. His robes were long and his voice deep, like thunder. "The only way you can have a child is if you sleep with me," he said. "It’s a spiritual covenant." Binta dropped to the ground in shock. She refused. She cried, but her heart was broken, and Johnny held her through it all. That night, they made a decision—to leave the town behind, to escape the voices and the judgment, to live in silence by the river.

    In a neighboring town, Amanda’s beauty was the talk of the village. Her skin shimmered like the morning sun, and her hair flowed like palm branches. She was the center of attention wherever she went. Yet, despite all the compliments, Amanda felt trapped. Her life was one of constant demands—sweeping, fetching water, washing dishes. She dreamed of freedom, of being more than just a pretty face. She wanted to escape the life that confined her.

    As Amanda’s frustration grew, something stirred in her heart. She began to question the life she had been given—the expectations, the roles, the way she was treated. She began to see that her beauty, her privileges, might not have been a blessing after all. It was a cage, and she longed to break free.

    But one day, as the winds of change swept through the village, a fateful encounter would bring both Binta’s silent sorrow and Amanda’s yearning for freedom together in ways neither of them could have ever predicted.

    In a world where silence and beauty both carry heavy burdens, Binta and Amanda would each face a choice that would change their lives forever.

    Stay tuned for the next part of their intertwined destinies. Will they find the freedom and fulfillment they so desperately seek? Or will the choices of the past haunt them forever


    To be continued…

    PLEASE Follow, like, comment and share
    She THREW Her NEWBORN BABY Off the BRIDGE Into the River Because... Episode 1 For 20 years, Johnny and his wife, Binta, lived in a quiet house by the river in the small town of Faju. Despite the years of marriage, their home was silent—no cries of children, no sounds of joy. Just the whisper of the river behind their house. Every morning, before the sun had fully risen, Binta would walk to the riverbank, kneel, and gently touch her stomach. Her words would drift into the wind, "Oh gods of the land, give me a child before I die." The pain in her voice was always the same. Every day. Rain or shine. No answer. Johnny sat quietly behind her, no longer pleading. He had given up on hope, his heart weary from the weight of unfulfilled prayers. The townspeople whispered behind their backs, some saying, "Her womb is locked with a padlock." Others mocked, "Maybe it’s Johnny. He eats his children in his dreams." But Binta and Johnny never spoke of these things. They just kept trying. From one doctor to another, the verdict was always the same: medically, there was nothing wrong. Desperate, they sought help from prayer houses and prophets. Binta endured fiery prayers, fainting after each session. Nothing changed. Not even bitter herbs from a native doctor could help. The years passed, and the silence in their home grew louder. One day, in their 15th year of marriage, they met a man who claimed to have the answer. His robes were long and his voice deep, like thunder. "The only way you can have a child is if you sleep with me," he said. "It’s a spiritual covenant." Binta dropped to the ground in shock. She refused. She cried, but her heart was broken, and Johnny held her through it all. That night, they made a decision—to leave the town behind, to escape the voices and the judgment, to live in silence by the river. In a neighboring town, Amanda’s beauty was the talk of the village. Her skin shimmered like the morning sun, and her hair flowed like palm branches. She was the center of attention wherever she went. Yet, despite all the compliments, Amanda felt trapped. Her life was one of constant demands—sweeping, fetching water, washing dishes. She dreamed of freedom, of being more than just a pretty face. She wanted to escape the life that confined her. As Amanda’s frustration grew, something stirred in her heart. She began to question the life she had been given—the expectations, the roles, the way she was treated. She began to see that her beauty, her privileges, might not have been a blessing after all. It was a cage, and she longed to break free. But one day, as the winds of change swept through the village, a fateful encounter would bring both Binta’s silent sorrow and Amanda’s yearning for freedom together in ways neither of them could have ever predicted. In a world where silence and beauty both carry heavy burdens, Binta and Amanda would each face a choice that would change their lives forever. Stay tuned for the next part of their intertwined destinies. Will they find the freedom and fulfillment they so desperately seek? Or will the choices of the past haunt them forever To be continued… PLEASE Follow, like, comment and share
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  • I Met Him in Church… But I Didn't Know the Devil Also Wore Suits."

    I thought the safest place to meet a good man was the house of God.
    I thought wrong.

    When I met Samuel, I was 25 and deeply broken.

    I had just come out of a toxic relationship — the kind that leaves you doubting your own worth, your own beauty, your own intelligence.

    I needed healing.
    I needed God.

    So when Samuel found me crying quietly after service one evening, and offered me his handkerchief, I thought:

    > "Maybe this is how God gives second chances."

    He was everything a "church man" should be.

    Well-dressed.

    Well-spoken.

    Bible study leader.

    Quoting scriptures like breathing air.

    He never missed midweek service.
    He always led prayer sessions with fire.
    People respected him.
    Pastor adored him.

    And somehow... he adored me.

    He courted me “the godly way.”

    No kissing.
    No touching.
    No secret sleepovers.

    Just prayers, fasting, long conversations about our future.

    He would say:

    > "Let’s make heaven together, baby."

    I believed him.

    I introduced him to my family.

    He knelt down before my parents and said:

    > "I will honor her. I will cherish her. I will protect her in Christ."

    My father cried that day.

    My mother started sewing Aso-Ebi for a wedding that hadn’t even been proposed yet.

    Everyone said I was lucky.

    That I had found a rare gem.

    Three months to our introduction, things started changing.

    Little things.

    He started picking on my dressing.

    > "That skirt is too tight. Godly women are modest."

    He started controlling who I could talk to.

    > "Your best friend is too worldly. She’s a distraction."

    He started monitoring my social media.

    > "Why are men liking your posts? Delete it."

    I thought it was love.
    I thought it was protection.

    I didn’t know it was the first signs of a cage.

    Then came the financial requests.

    First, it was ₦20,000 to “sow a seed” into a new church project.

    Then ₦50,000 because his car broke down on the way to evangelism.

    Then ₦100,000 because his younger brother needed urgent school fees — "and as his future wife," he said, "our burdens are shared."

    I drained my savings without blinking.

    Because isn't that what Proverbs 31 women do?
    Support their men in times of need?

    Besides, he always said:

    > "God will bless you double."

    I was sowing into my future, I thought.

    I was watering the garden of marriage, I thought.

    One night, two weeks to our traditional wedding, I visited him unannounced.

    I just wanted to surprise him.

    Bring him some food.
    Maybe wash his clothes.
    Be a good fiancée.

    The door was locked.
    I knocked.

    He came out half-naked.

    Another woman was inside.
    Wearing my favorite Ankara wrapper.

    Cooking in his kitchen.

    She looked me dead in the eyes and said:

    > "Who are you?"

    I couldn’t speak.
    My tongue glued itself to my grief.

    Samuel pulled me outside roughly and whispered:

    > "Don't embarrass me. She's my real fiancée. You were just... spiritual support."

    Just.
    Spiritual.
    Support.

    Six months of prayers.
    Six months of fasting.
    Six months of giving.

    For what?

    For another woman to wear my wrapper?
    For another woman to sleep in the bed I helped pay rent for?

    He blocked me the next day.

    Changed churches.

    Moved on.

    I found out later he had three other women from three other churches he was "courting" at the same time.

    Different rings.
    Different promises.
    Same lies.

    I thought the pain would kill me.

    I thought my chest would split open from heartbreak.

    I questioned God:

    > "Was I not faithful enough?
    Was I not prayerful enough?
    Was I not good enough?"

    But the more I wept, the clearer it became:

    It wasn't about me.
    It was about him.

    Some men use the name of God as camouflage.
    They speak in tongues, but their hearts speak in manipulation.
    They sing worship songs, but their souls are tuned to destruction.

    Today, I am healing.

    Slowly.

    Learning that God is good, even when people are wicked.

    Learning that real love doesn't control, it cherishes.
    Real love doesn't use, it protects.
    Real love doesn’t need a stage and a microphone — it’s humble, it’s patient, it’s kind.

    Life Lesson:

    Don’t confuse spirituality with character.

    Don’t let your love for God blind you to red flags waving like banners.

    And never, ever surrender your mind just because someone carries a Bible louder than you.

    Love should feel like peace — not war.
    Not confusion.
    Not fear.

    Today, I still believe in love.
    I still believe in God.

    But now, I know better:

    > Even the devil can wear suits.
    Even the devil can preach sermons.

    Test spirits.
    Test hearts.
    Test character.

    Before you hand over your heart.

    ---

    #HealingIsAMiracle #ChurchGirlDiaries #LoveAndLessons #RealLifeStories #GuardYourHeart
    I Met Him in Church… But I Didn't Know the Devil Also Wore Suits." I thought the safest place to meet a good man was the house of God. I thought wrong. When I met Samuel, I was 25 and deeply broken. I had just come out of a toxic relationship — the kind that leaves you doubting your own worth, your own beauty, your own intelligence. I needed healing. I needed God. So when Samuel found me crying quietly after service one evening, and offered me his handkerchief, I thought: > "Maybe this is how God gives second chances." He was everything a "church man" should be. Well-dressed. Well-spoken. Bible study leader. Quoting scriptures like breathing air. He never missed midweek service. He always led prayer sessions with fire. People respected him. Pastor adored him. And somehow... he adored me. He courted me “the godly way.” No kissing. No touching. No secret sleepovers. Just prayers, fasting, long conversations about our future. He would say: > "Let’s make heaven together, baby." I believed him. I introduced him to my family. He knelt down before my parents and said: > "I will honor her. I will cherish her. I will protect her in Christ." My father cried that day. My mother started sewing Aso-Ebi for a wedding that hadn’t even been proposed yet. Everyone said I was lucky. That I had found a rare gem. Three months to our introduction, things started changing. Little things. He started picking on my dressing. > "That skirt is too tight. Godly women are modest." He started controlling who I could talk to. > "Your best friend is too worldly. She’s a distraction." He started monitoring my social media. > "Why are men liking your posts? Delete it." I thought it was love. I thought it was protection. I didn’t know it was the first signs of a cage. Then came the financial requests. First, it was ₦20,000 to “sow a seed” into a new church project. Then ₦50,000 because his car broke down on the way to evangelism. Then ₦100,000 because his younger brother needed urgent school fees — "and as his future wife," he said, "our burdens are shared." I drained my savings without blinking. Because isn't that what Proverbs 31 women do? Support their men in times of need? Besides, he always said: > "God will bless you double." I was sowing into my future, I thought. I was watering the garden of marriage, I thought. One night, two weeks to our traditional wedding, I visited him unannounced. I just wanted to surprise him. Bring him some food. Maybe wash his clothes. Be a good fiancée. The door was locked. I knocked. He came out half-naked. Another woman was inside. Wearing my favorite Ankara wrapper. Cooking in his kitchen. She looked me dead in the eyes and said: > "Who are you?" I couldn’t speak. My tongue glued itself to my grief. Samuel pulled me outside roughly and whispered: > "Don't embarrass me. She's my real fiancée. You were just... spiritual support." Just. Spiritual. Support. Six months of prayers. Six months of fasting. Six months of giving. For what? For another woman to wear my wrapper? For another woman to sleep in the bed I helped pay rent for? He blocked me the next day. Changed churches. Moved on. I found out later he had three other women from three other churches he was "courting" at the same time. Different rings. Different promises. Same lies. I thought the pain would kill me. I thought my chest would split open from heartbreak. I questioned God: > "Was I not faithful enough? Was I not prayerful enough? Was I not good enough?" But the more I wept, the clearer it became: It wasn't about me. It was about him. Some men use the name of God as camouflage. They speak in tongues, but their hearts speak in manipulation. They sing worship songs, but their souls are tuned to destruction. Today, I am healing. Slowly. Learning that God is good, even when people are wicked. Learning that real love doesn't control, it cherishes. Real love doesn't use, it protects. Real love doesn’t need a stage and a microphone — it’s humble, it’s patient, it’s kind. Life Lesson: Don’t confuse spirituality with character. Don’t let your love for God blind you to red flags waving like banners. And never, ever surrender your mind just because someone carries a Bible louder than you. Love should feel like peace — not war. Not confusion. Not fear. Today, I still believe in love. I still believe in God. But now, I know better: > Even the devil can wear suits. Even the devil can preach sermons. Test spirits. Test hearts. Test character. Before you hand over your heart. --- #HealingIsAMiracle #ChurchGirlDiaries #LoveAndLessons #RealLifeStories #GuardYourHeart
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  • “You are not matured if you have not allowed a man to press your breast as a lady.”

    These were the exact words you used that day.
    And at that moment, I realized…

    I wasn’t having a conversation with a bad person, I was having a conversation with someone who had been badly taught.

    Because somewhere along the line, We started confusing exposure with maturity. We started dressing wounds like they were trophies.

    We started calling pain 'experience' and bondage 'freedom'.

    How did we get here?...

    Where girls are told that sex equals power,

    And boys are told that control equals manhood?

    We live in a time where if you haven’t lost your virginity by a certain age, they say you’re either lying or lacking.

    Where if you’re still “clean,”
    They ask you, “What are you waiting for?"

    They say...

    “If you don’t sleep with him, he’ll leave you.”

    “If you don’t show your skin, no one will notice you.”

    “If you don’t bend your values, you’ll never rise.”

    “If you don’t join them, you’ll be left behind.”

    “If you haven’t had a heartbreak, you’re still a baby.”

    “If you don’t have a sugar daddy, you’re wasting your beauty.”

    Lies.

    Beautifully packaged, widely accepted lies.

    Maturity is not in the loss of innocence. It is in the preservation of purpose. It is in knowing who you are, and having the strength to protect it.

    Being mature is not about how much of your body someone has touched. It’s about how much of your soul you’ve refused to sell.

    It’s about boundaries. It’s about self-respect. It’s about not needing to test fire to know that it burns.

    You’re not more mature because you’ve had sex.
    You’re not more respected because you’ve “done what grown-ups do.” You’re not more of a woman because someone has “pressed your breast.”
    And you’re definitely not more of a man because you’ve broken hearts.

    Real maturity is when you can say no and still walk away with your head high. When you know what you’re worth and refuse to let your value be measured in bedroom statistics.

    Let this be clear...
    You don’t have to experience shame to prove your strength. You don’t have to taste regret to understand your worth. You don’t have to be broken to become beautiful.

    To every girl reading this:
    You are enough even if you’ve never been touched.
    You are mature even if you’ve never compromised.
    And to the one who has made mistakes, You are not your past.

    So next time they tell you, “You’re not mature if you haven’t...” Smile.
    And tell them, “I’m not in a rush to ruin what I was called to protect.”

    Your value is not defined by what the world claps for. It’s defined by what you refuse to lose even when no one is watching.

    ______
    When you understand your purpose, you won't be swayed by anyone in the name of "Maturity". Join us for the purpose Discovery Conference. Link in the comment section.
    Kathryn Esther Clement~

    “You are not matured if you have not allowed a man to press your breast as a lady.” These were the exact words you used that day. And at that moment, I realized… I wasn’t having a conversation with a bad person, I was having a conversation with someone who had been badly taught. Because somewhere along the line, We started confusing exposure with maturity. We started dressing wounds like they were trophies. We started calling pain 'experience' and bondage 'freedom'. How did we get here?... Where girls are told that sex equals power, And boys are told that control equals manhood? We live in a time where if you haven’t lost your virginity by a certain age, they say you’re either lying or lacking. Where if you’re still “clean,” They ask you, “What are you waiting for?" They say... “If you don’t sleep with him, he’ll leave you.” “If you don’t show your skin, no one will notice you.” “If you don’t bend your values, you’ll never rise.” “If you don’t join them, you’ll be left behind.” “If you haven’t had a heartbreak, you’re still a baby.” “If you don’t have a sugar daddy, you’re wasting your beauty.” Lies. Beautifully packaged, widely accepted lies. Maturity is not in the loss of innocence. It is in the preservation of purpose. It is in knowing who you are, and having the strength to protect it. Being mature is not about how much of your body someone has touched. It’s about how much of your soul you’ve refused to sell. It’s about boundaries. It’s about self-respect. It’s about not needing to test fire to know that it burns. You’re not more mature because you’ve had sex. You’re not more respected because you’ve “done what grown-ups do.” You’re not more of a woman because someone has “pressed your breast.” And you’re definitely not more of a man because you’ve broken hearts. Real maturity is when you can say no and still walk away with your head high. When you know what you’re worth and refuse to let your value be measured in bedroom statistics. Let this be clear... You don’t have to experience shame to prove your strength. You don’t have to taste regret to understand your worth. You don’t have to be broken to become beautiful. To every girl reading this: You are enough even if you’ve never been touched. You are mature even if you’ve never compromised. And to the one who has made mistakes, You are not your past. So next time they tell you, “You’re not mature if you haven’t...” Smile. And tell them, “I’m not in a rush to ruin what I was called to protect.” Your value is not defined by what the world claps for. It’s defined by what you refuse to lose even when no one is watching. ______ When you understand your purpose, you won't be swayed by anyone in the name of "Maturity". Join us for the purpose Discovery Conference. Link in the comment section. Kathryn Esther Clement~
    WHATSAPP.COM
    Idwurldtalks Public channel ✍️ | WhatsApp Channel
    Idwurldtalks Public channel ✍️ WhatsApp Channel. Save place for both gender, though my sermon might not on the same term with your own instinct or reality. But if you follow our lead you’re safe. #reallife. Nature and Nurturing. 229 followers
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  • 10 TYPES OF WOMEN A MALE FARMER MUST AVOID
    Brutal Truths Every Focused Man Needs in 2025

    You don’t need witchcraft to fail — just the wrong woman in your space.
    Your farm, peace, and future can be destroyed silently… if you're not discerning.

    Here’s the harsh truth no one tells male farmers:

    1. The Beauty Without Brains – Fine face, empty mind. Can’t support your vision.
    2. The “Soft Life Only” Babe – No hustle. Just vibes and expensive taste.
    3. The Forever Victim – She’ll drain your emotions, not water your dreams.
    4. The Seductress – Knows your weakness, weaponizes it.
    5. The Classy Gold-Digger – She’s not in love — she’s in business.
    6. The Spiritually Dead – You’re sowing seeds, she’s sowing confusion.
    7. Miss Entitled – Wants queen treatment, won’t lift a finger.
    8. The Modern Rebel – Can’t build legacy with someone who hates structure.
    9. The Ex You Won’t Delete – If she still controls your heart, your hands can’t build.
    10. The Destiny Assassin – Sent to waste your time, money, and mind.

    Bro, protect your purpose.
    Some women aren’t partners… they’re spiritual potholes.

    Think legacy. Think vision. Choose wisely.

    #MaleFarmerWisdom #FarmWithFocus #AvoidDestinyKillers #AfricanFarmers #DoxaonFarmResort #FarmingAndPurpose #RealTalkForMen #GoatFarmerAfrica #AgropreneurLife
    10 TYPES OF WOMEN A MALE FARMER MUST AVOID Brutal Truths Every Focused Man Needs in 2025 You don’t need witchcraft to fail — just the wrong woman in your space. Your farm, peace, and future can be destroyed silently… if you're not discerning. Here’s the harsh truth no one tells male farmers: 1. The Beauty Without Brains – Fine face, empty mind. Can’t support your vision. 2. The “Soft Life Only” Babe – No hustle. Just vibes and expensive taste. 3. The Forever Victim – She’ll drain your emotions, not water your dreams. 4. The Seductress – Knows your weakness, weaponizes it. 5. The Classy Gold-Digger – She’s not in love — she’s in business. 6. The Spiritually Dead – You’re sowing seeds, she’s sowing confusion. 7. Miss Entitled – Wants queen treatment, won’t lift a finger. 8. The Modern Rebel – Can’t build legacy with someone who hates structure. 9. The Ex You Won’t Delete – If she still controls your heart, your hands can’t build. 10. The Destiny Assassin – Sent to waste your time, money, and mind. Bro, protect your purpose. Some women aren’t partners… they’re spiritual potholes. Think legacy. Think vision. Choose wisely. #MaleFarmerWisdom #FarmWithFocus #AvoidDestinyKillers #AfricanFarmers #DoxaonFarmResort #FarmingAndPurpose #RealTalkForMen #GoatFarmerAfrica #AgropreneurLife
    Like
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  • Having caught her husband with a young beauty, the wife didn’t start a brawl; instead, five days later she presented him with an unexpected surprise.
    Marina could never have imagined that she would find herself in such a situation. “Beluga” – the restaurant where Viktor once proposed to her three decades ago – had now become the venue for his secret rendezvous. She stood by the panoramic window, watching as her husband tenderly intertwined his fingers with a young blonde barely twenty-five years old.
    “You are special,” the words reached Marina, and the once familiar voice suddenly seemed alien.
    The girl smiled playfully, revealing flawless teeth and charming dimples. Her well-groomed fingers with perfect manicure caressed Viktor’s wrist tenderly.
    “What about the wife?” squeaked the brunette, puffing out her lips.
    “Marina?” Viktor waved his hand nonchalantly. “She’s busy with flowers and TV series. You know, at our age…” he trailed off, laden with meaning.
    Marina was overwhelmed by a feeling of suffocation, and her hands betrayed her with trembling. Thirty years of life together, three grown-up children, countless evenings shared – all of it was nullified by one dismissive gesture.
    Her first impulse was to burst in, create a scandal, and pour wine on the couple. But something restrained her – perhaps years of cultivated composure or natural reason.
    Upon returning home, Marina mechanically brewed tea and sank into her favorite armchair. Her gaze fell upon a folder of documents in the cabinet – papers she had signed at her husband’s request over the past five years.
    “Darling, it’s just a formality,” his words echoed in her mind. “It’s necessary for tax optimization.”
    Now, as she reviewed the documents with trembling hands, she began to realize the true state of affairs. The house, the country residence, three car dealerships, a chain of restaurants – everything officially belonged to her.
    Fearing inspections, Viktor had been gradually transferring assets to his wife, believing her to be loyal and spineless.
    Marina smiled bitterly. How wrong he was. Over the years of their marriage, she had not only learned to cultivate orchids and bake cakes – she had been carefully monitoring the development of the family business, even though she had remained in the background.
    By midnight, her tears had dried up. In place of despair came cold determination. Marina took out her diary and began to plan. Five days – that was all that was needed.
    Day One:
    The day began with an early call to a lawyer. Elena Sergeyevna, an authoritative family law specialist, carefully examined the documents as Marina nervously tapped her fingers.
    “Congratulations,” the lawyer pronounced while adjusting her glasses. “Legally, you are the sole owner of the entire business.”
    “What about the power of attorney I gave him?”
    “It can be annulled immediately.”
    Marina looked at the swirling autumn leaves outside the office window. For thirty years, she had been an exemplary wife – supportive, inspiring, forgiving. Now it was time to think about herself.
    “Let’s start acting,” she declared firmly.
    Day One Continued:
    That same evening, Viktor returned late, exuding the scent of expensive perfume. Marina, as usual, served dinner.
    “Today you seem different,” noted her husband, dabbing his lips with a napkin.
    “Just tired,” she smiled. “By the way, don’t cook dinner tomorrow. I have a meeting with friends.”
    Viktor nodded absentmindedly, absorbed in his phone. Marina saw him hide a smile as he read messages.
    Day Two:
    The next day, she visited all the banks with their joint accounts. The process took several hours – Viktor was busy shifting their finances across various institutions. By the evening, a significant portion of the funds had been transferred to new accounts opened exclusively in her name.
    “Ms. Sokolova, maybe leave a small reserve?” cautiously suggested the manager of the last bank.
    “No,” Marina shook her head. “Transfer everything.”
    At home, she found a bouquet of roses – Viktor sometimes gave them, especially when he felt guilty. In the past, they would have moved her, but now the flowers elicited only a bitter smile.
    Day Three:
    A meeting took place with Mikhail Petrovich, a long-time partner in their family business.
    “To part with the car dealerships?” Mikhail Petrovich exclaimed in astonishment. “But they consistently generate income!”
    “That’s precisely why now is the perfect time,” Marina replied calmly. “The market is on the rise.”
    By the evening, preliminary agreements had been sealed with signatures. Now she had reliable financial protection.
    Day Four:
    The fourth day was the most emotionally intense. Her hand trembled betraying her as she signed documents.
    “Are you sure about your decision?” inquired the notary sympathetically, a woman around her age.
    “Absolutely,” Marina replied, straightening her shoulders.
    Next, she met with a real estate agency. The family mansion, built fifteen years ago, was now entirely in her possession.
    “I want to prepare the eviction documents,” she declared, looking straight into the eyes of the young lawyer.
    “But that’s your husband…” the lawyer began uncertainly.
    “Ex-husband,” corrected Marina. “And he has exactly seven days to vacate the house.”
    Day Five:
    The fifth day began with a visit... Read the continuation in the comments
    Having caught her husband with a young beauty, the wife didn’t start a brawl; instead, five days later she presented him with an unexpected surprise. Marina could never have imagined that she would find herself in such a situation. “Beluga” – the restaurant where Viktor once proposed to her three decades ago – had now become the venue for his secret rendezvous. She stood by the panoramic window, watching as her husband tenderly intertwined his fingers with a young blonde barely twenty-five years old. “You are special,” the words reached Marina, and the once familiar voice suddenly seemed alien. The girl smiled playfully, revealing flawless teeth and charming dimples. Her well-groomed fingers with perfect manicure caressed Viktor’s wrist tenderly. “What about the wife?” squeaked the brunette, puffing out her lips. “Marina?” Viktor waved his hand nonchalantly. “She’s busy with flowers and TV series. You know, at our age…” he trailed off, laden with meaning. Marina was overwhelmed by a feeling of suffocation, and her hands betrayed her with trembling. Thirty years of life together, three grown-up children, countless evenings shared – all of it was nullified by one dismissive gesture. Her first impulse was to burst in, create a scandal, and pour wine on the couple. But something restrained her – perhaps years of cultivated composure or natural reason. Upon returning home, Marina mechanically brewed tea and sank into her favorite armchair. Her gaze fell upon a folder of documents in the cabinet – papers she had signed at her husband’s request over the past five years. “Darling, it’s just a formality,” his words echoed in her mind. “It’s necessary for tax optimization.” Now, as she reviewed the documents with trembling hands, she began to realize the true state of affairs. The house, the country residence, three car dealerships, a chain of restaurants – everything officially belonged to her. Fearing inspections, Viktor had been gradually transferring assets to his wife, believing her to be loyal and spineless. Marina smiled bitterly. How wrong he was. Over the years of their marriage, she had not only learned to cultivate orchids and bake cakes – she had been carefully monitoring the development of the family business, even though she had remained in the background. By midnight, her tears had dried up. In place of despair came cold determination. Marina took out her diary and began to plan. Five days – that was all that was needed. Day One: The day began with an early call to a lawyer. Elena Sergeyevna, an authoritative family law specialist, carefully examined the documents as Marina nervously tapped her fingers. “Congratulations,” the lawyer pronounced while adjusting her glasses. “Legally, you are the sole owner of the entire business.” “What about the power of attorney I gave him?” “It can be annulled immediately.” Marina looked at the swirling autumn leaves outside the office window. For thirty years, she had been an exemplary wife – supportive, inspiring, forgiving. Now it was time to think about herself. “Let’s start acting,” she declared firmly. Day One Continued: That same evening, Viktor returned late, exuding the scent of expensive perfume. Marina, as usual, served dinner. “Today you seem different,” noted her husband, dabbing his lips with a napkin. “Just tired,” she smiled. “By the way, don’t cook dinner tomorrow. I have a meeting with friends.” Viktor nodded absentmindedly, absorbed in his phone. Marina saw him hide a smile as he read messages. Day Two: The next day, she visited all the banks with their joint accounts. The process took several hours – Viktor was busy shifting their finances across various institutions. By the evening, a significant portion of the funds had been transferred to new accounts opened exclusively in her name. “Ms. Sokolova, maybe leave a small reserve?” cautiously suggested the manager of the last bank. “No,” Marina shook her head. “Transfer everything.” At home, she found a bouquet of roses – Viktor sometimes gave them, especially when he felt guilty. In the past, they would have moved her, but now the flowers elicited only a bitter smile. Day Three: A meeting took place with Mikhail Petrovich, a long-time partner in their family business. “To part with the car dealerships?” Mikhail Petrovich exclaimed in astonishment. “But they consistently generate income!” “That’s precisely why now is the perfect time,” Marina replied calmly. “The market is on the rise.” By the evening, preliminary agreements had been sealed with signatures. Now she had reliable financial protection. Day Four: The fourth day was the most emotionally intense. Her hand trembled betraying her as she signed documents. “Are you sure about your decision?” inquired the notary sympathetically, a woman around her age. “Absolutely,” Marina replied, straightening her shoulders. Next, she met with a real estate agency. The family mansion, built fifteen years ago, was now entirely in her possession. “I want to prepare the eviction documents,” she declared, looking straight into the eyes of the young lawyer. “But that’s your husband…” the lawyer began uncertainly. “Ex-husband,” corrected Marina. “And he has exactly seven days to vacate the house.” Day Five: The fifth day began with a visit... 📖 Read the continuation in the comments ⬇️
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  • Beauty and brain only. Safe space
    Beauty and brain only. Safe space
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  • Let me tell you a Moonlight Story


    Title: The Prince and the Forbidden Flame"

    Once upon a time, under the whispering baobab trees of Ujamaa Kingdom, there lived a noble prince named Jabari. He was brave, wise, and destined to rule after his father, King Omotayo. The kingdom adored him, yet tradition bound his every move—especially when it came to choosing a wife.

    Now, in the outskirts of the kingdom lived Abeni, a girl marked by the elders as an outcast. Her mother had broken tribal laws long ago, and though Abeni was innocent, she bore the curse of her lineage. She lived in the shadows of society, her presence always met with silence or stares. But Abeni had a rare gift—she could speak to animals and heal the wounded with herbs known only to the forest.

    One fateful night, Prince Jabari was hunting in the forest when a lion attacked his party. He was badly wounded and separated from his guards. Abeni found him unconscious by the river and tended to him with her secret herbs. She saved his life. For days, he stayed with her in her humble hut, watching her speak to birds, dance with butterflies, and heal with love. He fell in love—not with her beauty alone, but with her spirit.

    When he returned to the palace, his heart longed for Abeni. He announced his intent to marry her.

    The elders protested. The people revolted. “An outcast cannot sit on the throne!” they cried.

    But Jabari stood firm. He challenged the council to a test of purity. “Let the river gods judge us,” he said. “If Abeni is truly cursed, the sacred river will reject her.”

    On the day of the trial, all gathered by the great River Orun. The priestess invoked the gods. Abeni stepped into the water—it shimmered gold around her feet, and the winds danced in song. The gods had spoken.

    The people bowed. The king wept.

    Jabari and Abeni married beneath the full moon, surrounded by the laughter of spirits and ancestors. She became not only his queen, but the kingdom’s most beloved healer.

    From then on, Ujamaa no longer judged bloodlines, only hearts.
    Let me tell you a Moonlight Story 🌙 🥰🔥 Title: The Prince and the Forbidden Flame" Once upon a time, under the whispering baobab trees of Ujamaa Kingdom, there lived a noble prince named Jabari. He was brave, wise, and destined to rule after his father, King Omotayo. The kingdom adored him, yet tradition bound his every move—especially when it came to choosing a wife. Now, in the outskirts of the kingdom lived Abeni, a girl marked by the elders as an outcast. Her mother had broken tribal laws long ago, and though Abeni was innocent, she bore the curse of her lineage. She lived in the shadows of society, her presence always met with silence or stares. But Abeni had a rare gift—she could speak to animals and heal the wounded with herbs known only to the forest. One fateful night, Prince Jabari was hunting in the forest when a lion attacked his party. He was badly wounded and separated from his guards. Abeni found him unconscious by the river and tended to him with her secret herbs. She saved his life. For days, he stayed with her in her humble hut, watching her speak to birds, dance with butterflies, and heal with love. He fell in love—not with her beauty alone, but with her spirit. When he returned to the palace, his heart longed for Abeni. He announced his intent to marry her. The elders protested. The people revolted. “An outcast cannot sit on the throne!” they cried. But Jabari stood firm. He challenged the council to a test of purity. “Let the river gods judge us,” he said. “If Abeni is truly cursed, the sacred river will reject her.” On the day of the trial, all gathered by the great River Orun. The priestess invoked the gods. Abeni stepped into the water—it shimmered gold around her feet, and the winds danced in song. The gods had spoken. The people bowed. The king wept. Jabari and Abeni married beneath the full moon, surrounded by the laughter of spirits and ancestors. She became not only his queen, but the kingdom’s most beloved healer. From then on, Ujamaa no longer judged bloodlines, only hearts.
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  • Common Mistakes People Make When Choosing a Life Partner

    DESPERATION– Some people rush into marriage without learning enough about it.

    They think, “I’ll figure it out along the way,” but this mindset leads to regret.

    The right knowledge helps you prepare, notice warning signs early, and make better choices.

    TRYING TO PROVE A POINT– Some get married just to show others they can. They don’t want people saying, “With all your beauty and money, you’re still single?”

    But in the end, when problems come, they realize no one really cared that much and they have to face the consequences of their choices and decisions all alone

    PEER PRESSURE – Seeing friends get married makes some feel left out.

    So, they rush to pick anyone just to fit in, without thinking long-term.

    FEAR OF TIME PASSING – Some believe they are getting too old and must marry quickly, even if the person doesn’t match their values and purpose in life.

    They forget that everyone’s journey(time) is different, and rushing can lead to regret.

    MARRYING FOR MONEY OR STATUS– Some choose a partner just for wealth or social position, ignoring their bad character.

    Later, they realize that money is useless when there is no peace and they have no say in the marriage.

    BLINDLY FOLLOWING RECOMMENDATIONS– Some marry people recommended by parents, pastors, or others without checking if they are truly compatible.

    But what others see as “good” may not be right for you. Good intentions doesn’t equate compatibility.

    Marriage is a lifelong journey. Don't rush into it for the wrong reasons.

    Take your time, learn, and choose wisely.
    Common Mistakes People Make When Choosing a Life Partner ‼️DESPERATION– Some people rush into marriage without learning enough about it. They think, “I’ll figure it out along the way,” but this mindset leads to regret. The right knowledge helps you prepare, notice warning signs early, and make better choices. ‼️TRYING TO PROVE A POINT– Some get married just to show others they can. They don’t want people saying, “With all your beauty and money, you’re still single?” But in the end, when problems come, they realize no one really cared that much and they have to face the consequences of their choices and decisions all alone ‼️PEER PRESSURE – Seeing friends get married makes some feel left out. So, they rush to pick anyone just to fit in, without thinking long-term. ‼️FEAR OF TIME PASSING – Some believe they are getting too old and must marry quickly, even if the person doesn’t match their values and purpose in life. They forget that everyone’s journey(time) is different, and rushing can lead to regret. ‼️MARRYING FOR MONEY OR STATUS– Some choose a partner just for wealth or social position, ignoring their bad character. Later, they realize that money is useless when there is no peace and they have no say in the marriage. ‼️BLINDLY FOLLOWING RECOMMENDATIONS– Some marry people recommended by parents, pastors, or others without checking if they are truly compatible. But what others see as “good” may not be right for you. Good intentions doesn’t equate compatibility. Marriage is a lifelong journey. Don't rush into it for the wrong reasons. Take your time, learn, and choose wisely.
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  • HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW S3DUC3D HIM UNTIL HE GOT HER PREGNANT.

    1

    Veronica was not your typical mother-in-law. I mean, not every mother-in-law is the same; some come with prayers, wrappers, and love, while others come with lipstick, secrets, and destr--uction. Veronica was the second kind.

    She was the kind of woman who never accepted she was old, always saying things like, "I'm still h--ot," or "I'm still in town." She dressed like a teenager: short, see-through skirts, crop tops, long eyelashes, and heavy makeup that made people stare.

    She walked like the streets still belonged to her, spoke with bold confidence, and never accepted that age had touched her. She didn't visit her daughters like a normal mother; she showed up like she was coming for a nightclub audition.

    To Veronica, her daughter's husband wasn't family; he was an opportunity, another fine man she could lay in b--ed with. And she did it – not once, not twice, but multiple times. She wasn't just a problem; she was a st--orm.

    Meanwhile, across town, Nancy, her daughter, lived a very different life. Nancy was the kind of woman every man would be proud to have. Her skin was smooth like ripe mango, and her smile could calm a crying baby. She was kind, quiet, and very hardworking. Everyone who met her said the same thing: "This girl is wife material."

    Nancy had a man, his name was Aika. He was tall like a coconut tree, with skin that shone like polished wood. His voice was soft, his steps gentle, and his heart was full of love.

    He had big houses, fine cars, big businesses, and plenty of money in the bank. But above all, he had only one thing in mind: to marry Nancy and start a peaceful life with her.

    Nancy had everything a young woman could wish for: a good job, a gentle man, and a heart full of joy. But inside her chest, under her happiness, there was a small fear, a quiet fear that stayed like a lizard behind cardboard.

    That fear was her mother, Veronica. Veronica was her mother by b--lood, yes, but she was not like other mothers. She was different, and Nancy knew deep down in her heart that if anything was ever going to spoil her joy, it would come from that woman.

    But she never said it out loud; she just smiled and kept planning her wedding.

    Veronica was not a mother like Mama Anki or Mama Zab; she was different, very different.

    She had Nancy when she was just a small girl herself, a teenager. Her parents chased her out of the house when they saw her belly growing like a yam.

    She cried, she begged, but they shut the door and told her, "Go and face what you started." From that day, Veronica began to suffer under the hot sun.

    She carried oranges on her head, she sold sachet water in traffic, she begged strangers for coins. Her feet were always dusty, and her stomach always empty.

    But Veronica had something: beauty. She was fine, too fine. Her skin glowed, her bo--dy curved like a question mark, and men started to notice. One man came one night; he offered her food and a soft bed, but he wanted her bo--dy in return. She agreed. That night, her life changed.

    That was how Veronica entered the world of easy money: one man today, another man tomorrow. She began to wear short clothes, paint her li--ps red like tomatoes, and walk with her che--st high like a peacock.

    She went from sleeping on cartons to sleeping in hotels, from begging for food to buying fried rice at night.

    To be continued after 20 shares...
    HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW S3DUC3D HIM UNTIL HE GOT HER PREGNANT. 1 Veronica was not your typical mother-in-law. I mean, not every mother-in-law is the same; some come with prayers, wrappers, and love, while others come with lipstick, secrets, and destr--uction. Veronica was the second kind. She was the kind of woman who never accepted she was old, always saying things like, "I'm still h--ot," or "I'm still in town." She dressed like a teenager: short, see-through skirts, crop tops, long eyelashes, and heavy makeup that made people stare. She walked like the streets still belonged to her, spoke with bold confidence, and never accepted that age had touched her. She didn't visit her daughters like a normal mother; she showed up like she was coming for a nightclub audition. To Veronica, her daughter's husband wasn't family; he was an opportunity, another fine man she could lay in b--ed with. And she did it – not once, not twice, but multiple times. She wasn't just a problem; she was a st--orm. Meanwhile, across town, Nancy, her daughter, lived a very different life. Nancy was the kind of woman every man would be proud to have. Her skin was smooth like ripe mango, and her smile could calm a crying baby. She was kind, quiet, and very hardworking. Everyone who met her said the same thing: "This girl is wife material." Nancy had a man, his name was Aika. He was tall like a coconut tree, with skin that shone like polished wood. His voice was soft, his steps gentle, and his heart was full of love. He had big houses, fine cars, big businesses, and plenty of money in the bank. But above all, he had only one thing in mind: to marry Nancy and start a peaceful life with her. Nancy had everything a young woman could wish for: a good job, a gentle man, and a heart full of joy. But inside her chest, under her happiness, there was a small fear, a quiet fear that stayed like a lizard behind cardboard. That fear was her mother, Veronica. Veronica was her mother by b--lood, yes, but she was not like other mothers. She was different, and Nancy knew deep down in her heart that if anything was ever going to spoil her joy, it would come from that woman. But she never said it out loud; she just smiled and kept planning her wedding. Veronica was not a mother like Mama Anki or Mama Zab; she was different, very different. She had Nancy when she was just a small girl herself, a teenager. Her parents chased her out of the house when they saw her belly growing like a yam. She cried, she begged, but they shut the door and told her, "Go and face what you started." From that day, Veronica began to suffer under the hot sun. She carried oranges on her head, she sold sachet water in traffic, she begged strangers for coins. Her feet were always dusty, and her stomach always empty. But Veronica had something: beauty. She was fine, too fine. Her skin glowed, her bo--dy curved like a question mark, and men started to notice. One man came one night; he offered her food and a soft bed, but he wanted her bo--dy in return. She agreed. That night, her life changed. That was how Veronica entered the world of easy money: one man today, another man tomorrow. She began to wear short clothes, paint her li--ps red like tomatoes, and walk with her che--st high like a peacock. She went from sleeping on cartons to sleeping in hotels, from begging for food to buying fried rice at night. To be continued after 20 shares...
    0 Reacties 0 aandelen 155 Views 0 voorbeeld
  • Three women are sitting in a beauty parlor, chatting about their husbands.
    The first woman sighs and says,
    "Last night, my husband told me he was going to his office. But when I called, they said he wasn’t there!"
    The second woman shakes her head and adds,
    "Same here! My husband said he was heading to his brother’s house, but when I called, he wasn’t there either."
    The third woman smiles confidently and says,
    "I always know exactly where my husband is."
    The other two women look at her in disbelief and exclaim,
    "That’s impossible! He must have you completely fooled!"
    The third woman chuckles and replies :
    Joke continues in the first comment .
    Three women are sitting in a beauty parlor, chatting about their husbands. The first woman sighs and says, "Last night, my husband told me he was going to his office. But when I called, they said he wasn’t there!" The second woman shakes her head and adds, "Same here! My husband said he was heading to his brother’s house, but when I called, he wasn’t there either." The third woman smiles confidently and says, "I always know exactly where my husband is." The other two women look at her in disbelief and exclaim, "That’s impossible! He must have you completely fooled!" The third woman chuckles and replies : Joke continues in the first comment 👇.
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  • "I'm sorry, Andrew, but I can't marry you!" Christina Stevens declared coldly in the CEO's office of Stevens Corporation. She sat behind her desk, looking elegant in a black lace dress, her demeanor icy and aloof.
    Across from her sat a handsome man in modest attire. Andrew Lloyd could not believe what he was hearing and asked, "Christie, what do you mean? What happened to the promise between us?"
    They had agreed to tie the knot on the day Stevens Corporation went public, marking the end of their three-year courtship.
    "Since we've been dating each other, I'll be frank," Christina replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her stunning features exuded grace and beauty with every movement.
    "Andrew, don't you think the gap between us has grown too wide? It's like we're from different worlds now. Forcing this relationship won't do you any good. For me, it would be… a burden."
    A burden?
    Andrew was stunned, never expecting Christina to say such a thing. If it had not been for his help, the Stevens family would have gone bankrupt long ago, let alone gone public.
    In fact, he had shaped Christina's success with his own hands.
    "I know this decision is hard for you to accept. How about this? Consider it a debt I owe you. After we cancel the wedding, I'll give you a settlement—cash, a villa, and a luxury car.
    That should be enough for you to live comfortably." Christina pulled out a pen and checkbook from her designer purse as she spoke.
    Andrew watched in silence as she wrote down the figure: 1.2 million. He felt as if he was looking at a stranger. "Is this all our years together are worth to you? Just a string of numbers?" Andrew asked.
    Christina's perfect features flickered with complexity for a moment before settling back into indifference. "If you think it's not enough, I can add more. Name your price."
    Andrew stared at her, pain evident in his eyes at how Christina had mistaken his question for thinking it was not enough. "So, you're dead set on backing out of this marriage?"
    Christina pressed her lips together and turned to look out the window. "If that's how you want to see it, I have nothing more to say," she replied.
    She was a female CEO with a net worth of over 150 million dollars, with countless admirers in Jayrodale. Andrew, from any angle, did not fit into her world anymore. Not even on an intellectual level.
    This marriage was not what Christina wanted—it was too ordinary for her tastes.
    "I never thought years of love, countless nights together, and all those breakfasts and dinners I made would ultimately lose to the fear of being ordinary. It's no surprise—you're now the CEO of Stevens Corporation, Jayrodale's golden girl, with countless admirers. And me? I'm just a nobody, clearly not worthy of the outstanding Ms. Stevens." Andrew chuckled bitterly, feeling utterly disheartened.
    Christina's brow furrowed as she glanced at him. "Andrew, I admit you've done a lot for me, but this… it's not what I want. Consider it compensation for your efforts over the years," Christina said as she pushed the check toward him.
    Andrew did not even look at the check. "A 1.2 million dollars breakup fee? How generous of you, Ms. Stevens. But I don't need it." He stood up and walked toward the door.
    Seeing Andrew about to leave, Christina's frown deepened. "Andrew, I strongly advise you to take this money. Don't be a fool for the sake of pride. A small-time doctor like you could never earn this much in a lifetime." Andrew ignored her words. In truth, 1.2 million dollars was not a sum he particularly needed.
    "Hold it right there," a voice called out. A woman dripping in jewelry and wearing flashy makeup strode into the room. Andrew immediately recognized her. "Aunt Irene!" It was Christina's mother, Irene Cowell—who would have been Andrew's mother-in-law.
    "Hmph, drop the 'Aunt Irene', we're not that close! If you're leaving, take your things with you. Our mansion has no room for your junk," Irene barked. She pulled a small box and a credit card from her purse and tossed them at Andrew.
    "Aunt Irene, you wanted this too? I thought I've always treated you with respect."
    Irene let out a harsh laugh, her voice grating. "What's the matter, Andrew? Did I hit a nerve?"
    "Oh, Andrew, there's one more thing you should know. Christina will soon be engaged to Harvey Weller once he returns from abroad. You're not in the same league as Harvey, got it?" Irene's face was full of mockery as she said those.
    Andrew looked at Christina icily. He was shocked at her audacity to find someone new before she even ended things with him.
    Christina avoided Andrew's cold gaze, but her words were firm. "The Weller family is a powerhouse in Jayrodale, with influence across military, political, and business sectors. They've worked for generations to become one of the city's unshakeable pillars. Harvey will inherit it all one day. An alliance between our families is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. For me, it's a chance to transform my life."
    At those words, Andrew finally let go.
    He smiled and replied, "Is that so? Well then, allow this poor nobody to wish you and the Stevens family all the best in your social climbing endeavors." With that, he walked out without another glance, showing no trace of attachment.
    As she watched Andrew's retreating figure, Christina felt a whirlwind of emotions.
    She had expected him to explode with anger or beg her to reconsider when he heard about Harvey. Yet, throughout it all, Andrew had remained unnervingly calm, even indifferent at the end.
    "Mom, do you think I went too far?"
    Irene scoffed. "Too far? That good-for-nothing thinking he could marry you—now that's going too far!" She chuckled with a gleam in her eye. "Just wait until Harvey gets back, sweetie. Once you two are engaged, the Stevens family will skyrocket to the top tier of Jayrodale society. As for Andrew, he's nothing. Thankfully, he knows better than to mess with me and is cooperative. Otherwise, I would've taught him a lesson he'd never forget!"
    Christina remained silent, feeling an inexplicable emptiness in her chest. It was as if something irreplaceable had suddenly vanished from her life.
    In the elevator, Andrew opened the modest ring box. A dazzling pink diamond immediately caught the light, its brilliance filling the small space. This 7.5-million-dollar luxury ring was once known as the "King of Diamonds" of Jayrodale, truly one of a kind.
    Andrew did not know exactly how much money was on the bank card, but he was sure it was enough to buy Stevens Corporations ten times over. Moments ago, Christina and Irene had not even bothered to look at these treasures, with Irene dismissing them as junk.
    As the elevator doors opened, Andrew stepped out.
    "Well, well, if it isn't Andrew! You don't look so good," a mocking voice greeted him.
    Andrew calmly looked up to see a man in a tailored suit, his hair slicked back, holding a bouquet of blue roses. It was Shawn Fields, Jayrodale's infamous trust fund baby and one of Christina's most persistent admirers.
    Not wanting to talk to him, Andrew tried to sidestep him, but Shawn moved to block his path again. Andrew's eyes turned cold as he stared directly at Shawn.
    "Do you need something? If not, please move."
    Shawn flashed an exaggerated grin. "Look, everyone, Christina's lapdog is actually barking at me! Let me guess, the Stevens family finally kicked you to the curb, huh?"
    As he taunted Andrew, Shawn noticed the ring box in his hand. "This is probably some cheap trinket! As if Christina would ever want that. Let's all have a look!" With a sneer, Shawn knocked the box from Andrew's hand, sending it clattering to the floor.
    The lid popped open, revealing a stunning pink diamond that rolled onto the floor.
    Shawn's eyes widened in disbelief. "Isn't that… the famous pink diamond from Radiant Jewelers? The one they call the Jayrodale's King of Diamonds?"...
    "I'm sorry, Andrew, but I can't marry you!" Christina Stevens declared coldly in the CEO's office of Stevens Corporation. She sat behind her desk, looking elegant in a black lace dress, her demeanor icy and aloof. Across from her sat a handsome man in modest attire. Andrew Lloyd could not believe what he was hearing and asked, "Christie, what do you mean? What happened to the promise between us?" They had agreed to tie the knot on the day Stevens Corporation went public, marking the end of their three-year courtship. "Since we've been dating each other, I'll be frank," Christina replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her stunning features exuded grace and beauty with every movement. "Andrew, don't you think the gap between us has grown too wide? It's like we're from different worlds now. Forcing this relationship won't do you any good. For me, it would be… a burden." A burden? Andrew was stunned, never expecting Christina to say such a thing. If it had not been for his help, the Stevens family would have gone bankrupt long ago, let alone gone public. In fact, he had shaped Christina's success with his own hands. "I know this decision is hard for you to accept. How about this? Consider it a debt I owe you. After we cancel the wedding, I'll give you a settlement—cash, a villa, and a luxury car. That should be enough for you to live comfortably." Christina pulled out a pen and checkbook from her designer purse as she spoke. Andrew watched in silence as she wrote down the figure: 1.2 million. He felt as if he was looking at a stranger. "Is this all our years together are worth to you? Just a string of numbers?" Andrew asked. Christina's perfect features flickered with complexity for a moment before settling back into indifference. "If you think it's not enough, I can add more. Name your price." Andrew stared at her, pain evident in his eyes at how Christina had mistaken his question for thinking it was not enough. "So, you're dead set on backing out of this marriage?" Christina pressed her lips together and turned to look out the window. "If that's how you want to see it, I have nothing more to say," she replied. She was a female CEO with a net worth of over 150 million dollars, with countless admirers in Jayrodale. Andrew, from any angle, did not fit into her world anymore. Not even on an intellectual level. This marriage was not what Christina wanted—it was too ordinary for her tastes. "I never thought years of love, countless nights together, and all those breakfasts and dinners I made would ultimately lose to the fear of being ordinary. It's no surprise—you're now the CEO of Stevens Corporation, Jayrodale's golden girl, with countless admirers. And me? I'm just a nobody, clearly not worthy of the outstanding Ms. Stevens." Andrew chuckled bitterly, feeling utterly disheartened. Christina's brow furrowed as she glanced at him. "Andrew, I admit you've done a lot for me, but this… it's not what I want. Consider it compensation for your efforts over the years," Christina said as she pushed the check toward him. Andrew did not even look at the check. "A 1.2 million dollars breakup fee? How generous of you, Ms. Stevens. But I don't need it." He stood up and walked toward the door. Seeing Andrew about to leave, Christina's frown deepened. "Andrew, I strongly advise you to take this money. Don't be a fool for the sake of pride. A small-time doctor like you could never earn this much in a lifetime." Andrew ignored her words. In truth, 1.2 million dollars was not a sum he particularly needed. "Hold it right there," a voice called out. A woman dripping in jewelry and wearing flashy makeup strode into the room. Andrew immediately recognized her. "Aunt Irene!" It was Christina's mother, Irene Cowell—who would have been Andrew's mother-in-law. "Hmph, drop the 'Aunt Irene', we're not that close! If you're leaving, take your things with you. Our mansion has no room for your junk," Irene barked. She pulled a small box and a credit card from her purse and tossed them at Andrew. "Aunt Irene, you wanted this too? I thought I've always treated you with respect." Irene let out a harsh laugh, her voice grating. "What's the matter, Andrew? Did I hit a nerve?" "Oh, Andrew, there's one more thing you should know. Christina will soon be engaged to Harvey Weller once he returns from abroad. You're not in the same league as Harvey, got it?" Irene's face was full of mockery as she said those. Andrew looked at Christina icily. He was shocked at her audacity to find someone new before she even ended things with him. Christina avoided Andrew's cold gaze, but her words were firm. "The Weller family is a powerhouse in Jayrodale, with influence across military, political, and business sectors. They've worked for generations to become one of the city's unshakeable pillars. Harvey will inherit it all one day. An alliance between our families is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. For me, it's a chance to transform my life." At those words, Andrew finally let go. He smiled and replied, "Is that so? Well then, allow this poor nobody to wish you and the Stevens family all the best in your social climbing endeavors." With that, he walked out without another glance, showing no trace of attachment. As she watched Andrew's retreating figure, Christina felt a whirlwind of emotions. She had expected him to explode with anger or beg her to reconsider when he heard about Harvey. Yet, throughout it all, Andrew had remained unnervingly calm, even indifferent at the end. "Mom, do you think I went too far?" Irene scoffed. "Too far? That good-for-nothing thinking he could marry you—now that's going too far!" She chuckled with a gleam in her eye. "Just wait until Harvey gets back, sweetie. Once you two are engaged, the Stevens family will skyrocket to the top tier of Jayrodale society. As for Andrew, he's nothing. Thankfully, he knows better than to mess with me and is cooperative. Otherwise, I would've taught him a lesson he'd never forget!" Christina remained silent, feeling an inexplicable emptiness in her chest. It was as if something irreplaceable had suddenly vanished from her life. In the elevator, Andrew opened the modest ring box. A dazzling pink diamond immediately caught the light, its brilliance filling the small space. This 7.5-million-dollar luxury ring was once known as the "King of Diamonds" of Jayrodale, truly one of a kind. Andrew did not know exactly how much money was on the bank card, but he was sure it was enough to buy Stevens Corporations ten times over. Moments ago, Christina and Irene had not even bothered to look at these treasures, with Irene dismissing them as junk. As the elevator doors opened, Andrew stepped out. "Well, well, if it isn't Andrew! You don't look so good," a mocking voice greeted him. Andrew calmly looked up to see a man in a tailored suit, his hair slicked back, holding a bouquet of blue roses. It was Shawn Fields, Jayrodale's infamous trust fund baby and one of Christina's most persistent admirers. Not wanting to talk to him, Andrew tried to sidestep him, but Shawn moved to block his path again. Andrew's eyes turned cold as he stared directly at Shawn. "Do you need something? If not, please move." Shawn flashed an exaggerated grin. "Look, everyone, Christina's lapdog is actually barking at me! Let me guess, the Stevens family finally kicked you to the curb, huh?" As he taunted Andrew, Shawn noticed the ring box in his hand. "This is probably some cheap trinket! As if Christina would ever want that. Let's all have a look!" With a sneer, Shawn knocked the box from Andrew's hand, sending it clattering to the floor. The lid popped open, revealing a stunning pink diamond that rolled onto the floor. Shawn's eyes widened in disbelief. "Isn't that… the famous pink diamond from Radiant Jewelers? The one they call the Jayrodale's King of Diamonds?"...
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