How Does 'Before I Die' End?

Olivia Fordham was married to Ethan Miller for three years, but that time could not compare with the ten years he spent loving his first love, Marina Carlton. On the day that she gets diagnosed with stomach cancer, Ethan happens to be accompanying Marina to her children's health check-up. She doesn't make any kind of fuss, only leaving quietly with the divorce agreement. However, this attracts an even more fervent retribution. It seems Ethan only ever married Olivia to take revenge for what happened to his little sister. While Olivia is plagued by her sickness, he holds her chin and says coldly, "This is what your family owes me." Now, she has no family and no future. Her father becomes comatose after a car accident, leaving her with nothing to live for. Thus, she hurls herself from a building. "The life my family owes will now be repaid." At this, Ethan, who's usually calm, panics while begging for Olivia to come back as if he's in a state of frenzy …

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

WARNING ️: this book may contain steamy and sexual content Which is strictly not for kids under 18. "Nathaan....." I screamed as I felt his huge cap at the entrance of my womanhood. Hello didn't give a damn about me as he pressed deeper into my wet pussy. My v walls pulsated around the root of his big cock while he kept pushing inside of me. " Pleaseeee Nathan, you're hard on meeeee" I managed to speak out trying to pull his hips away from mine, rather he retracted his hip and thrusted it dick fully, deeper, stretching me wider enough to accommodate his position. Nathan is a young, handsome, famous musician who lives happily single not until he was diagnosed with a terminal illness that made him bury his life in alcohol and sex. He believes that women are created for sex only and love comes with money. Not until he met a nurse, Eva meadows who isn't moved by his wealth or fame or even his physical looks but all she wishes for is to find true love, not the kind she had with Henry— her boyfriend. Now Eva works as Nathan's personal nurse, what neither of them expects is to fall in love. Not the kind that saves you—but the kind that changes you. He taught her how to feel. She taught him how to live. Now, as time slips away, they must face one impossible truth: Can you really learn to live… when you’re running out of time to love?

After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long. Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare. My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live. I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace. My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message. It was from Mom. [Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.] My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad. Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her. Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together. Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future. None of them knew I did not have a future. After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.

After my younger brother died, my parents and grandfather all killed themselves. Each of them died in a different way, but they shared one thing in common: Before their deaths, every one of them had read my brother's suicide note. And in that note, there was only a single sentence. Reporters fought for a chance to interview me. The police interrogated me overnight. Countless people wanted to know what that sentence said. But I never told anyone. Until the tenth anniversary of my brother's death, when I saw a figure standing in front of his grave. At that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. Because I knew my turn had finally come.

I decided to die on my 28th birthday. It was not suicide but homicide... by my dear sister, Susan Bruno. I had always known that she would kill me. I told my older brother, Barry Bruno, and he said, "Charlotte, don't always think so badly of Susan." I told my fiancé, Calvin Simmon, and he said, "You're making up a story to draw attention again." Hence, I decided to give them the evidence they wanted most—a corpse. I installed seven cameras, set up an automatic sending program, and wrote a farewell letter. I left clues for the killer, bait for Susan, and a time bomb for my family. Today, Susan texted: [Charlotte, Dad has something for you at the safe house.] I replied: [Coming.] Before leaving, I checked my to-do list one last time. Everything was checked off, except for one thing: death. I would die. They would never know that the moment my heart stopped beating... the countdown to revenge had only just begun.