How Did Charlie Richardson Die In History?

Charlie Wade was the live-in son-in-law that everyone despised, but his real identity as the heir of a prominent family remained a secret. He swore that one day, those who shunned him would kneel before him and beg for mercy, eventually!

Travis "Punch" Mitchell is not just any wolf shifter. He should absolutely be illegal, everything about him is sculpted by the goddess herself. He is the lead enforcer of the Flying Death, one of the most deadly and notorious packs there is. Alpha Axel "Dozer" Dennison adopted him and knew immediately that Punch was no ordinary pup. It takes a killer to know a killer. As fate would have it, Alpha Dozer has a beautiful daughter nobody dares to go near. Punch however, is already closer than anyone else to the female. They are in a constant tit for tat with each other, neither ever winning and always walking away frustrated with the other. He's a lot of bark, but no bite when it comes to her. Hazel Dennison is a girl who knows what she wants but is extremely immature with how she gets it. Punch is not only her ultimate nemesis, he is her crush. Her dream mate who wants nothing to do with her. Little does she know he's the female he loves to hate. When she takes matters into her own hands and dates another Alpha's son, Punch can't just sit back. Unfortunately for him, pack business interferes in his love life and everything goes upside down. Excerpt: I find myself leaning against the wall by his room, grateful my parents’ room is downstairs. "Go to bed,” I hear, barely above a whisper. "No,” I say, defiantly, turning to face his door. Either he sensed my heartbeat out here or he smelled me. Maybe both. I can’t wait to have my wolf. This sucks. He needs to know I’m not backing down. I’m not a dumb pup, I more than know what I want. Him. However I can get him.

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.

They killed her husband. They almost killed her too. But she survived. A year later she becomes a detective chasing criminals. Confident. Clever. Stronger than before. He is beautiful. He is a sexy italian. But he is also dangerous. Very..very dangerous. Unscrupulous. Arrogant. See the story of Laura Rosón and Richard Valentino. Laura's boss assignes her the task of pretending to be the new girlfriend of the Italian mobster Richard Valentino, in order to find out all his dirty secrets and put him in prison. She promises herself that whatever happen will put him in jail Will he kill her? Will she put him in jail? "So if I kiss you now, you won't feel anything?" Richard looked at me. "No longer." I approached him and handcuffed him. "YOU destroyed me, Richard. And now you're going to pay for everything you've done."

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.