The Tyrant Billionaire - Chapter 620 Hardy’s Web Of Entertainment And Indulgence

The night before we obtained our marriage certificate, I asked him, “When did you start to develop feelings for me?”

He answered, “I don’t remember.”

“But, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I’m very petty, and I get jealous very easily.”

“So am I.”

“I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you.”

“So am I.”

“I haven’t really dated, so I don’t know what love is.”

“I don’t know either.”

He held my hand gently, “But I know this. When I think about spending the rest of my life with you, I feel that my future is filled with hope.”

At 16, we used the same class desk, with less than 10cm between our arms. My peripheral vision was full of him.

At 26, I woke up in the morning, and saw the sunlight softly shining on his face. I thought, this is how I want to grow old – gradually, together, with him.

I guess this must be love.

In a fantasy world where martial artists can split mountains and creeks with a wave of their hand and break rivers with a kick, there exists a little restaurant like this.

The restaurant isn’t large, but it is a place where countless apex existences will rush into.

There, you can taste egg-fried rice made from phoenix eggs and dragon blood rice.

There, you can drink strong wine brewed from vermillion fruit and water from the fountain of life.

There, you can taste the barbecued meat of a ninth grade supreme beast sprinkled with black pepper.

What? You want to abduct the chef? That’s not going to happen, because there’s a divine beast of unfathomable level, the Hellhound, lying at the entrance.

Oh, that chef also has a robotic assistant that killed a ninth grade supreme being with a single hand and a group of crazy women whose stomachs were conquered.

- Description from Novelupdates

I am a female secretary of an overbearing president in a typical dog blood drama text.

The kind of person who doesn’t have a name at the end of the day, and could only be called “secretary”, one who wears a tight fitting black dress and a pair of 10cm high heels every day, running around in front of the president, humbly praying for the president’s attention, and hating the heroine.

In fact, I really don’t. If I like the president, I’ll be struck by lightning.

I’m getting more and more sick of the president lately. Except for the outstanding appearance that the author forced on him, this person is really useless from head to toe, low in EQ, and low in IQ.

A legendary business genius who is all-powerful, but he doesn’t even understand anything, chickens know more than him.

I had to reject all of his unreasonable demands every day, and on the way, teach him relevant knowledge of economic law and finance, and gradually…he became a master.

I’m so tired, I really want to quit my job.

- Description from Novelupdates

“Ding, the strongest template system is officially opened!”

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Start with Neuroknife and become a legend!

- Description from novelbuddy