What Happens At The Ending Of 'In Stockings'?

Things got out of hand the moment they met each other. It's like they are water and fire that cannot be mix in one room but in an unexpected turn of events, a tragedy took place that brings them both closer to each other. *** "Honey! Honey, come here now!" she called in a seductive tone of her voice, and she run upstairs while wearing red lingerie. "You naughty, woman, wait for me!" he excitingly responded and he followed her upstairs. She, then, jumps to the bed when she suddenly fell flat to the floor and hit her head which causes her eyesight to fade and little by little her memories are coming back. She looks around but all are unfamiliar to her. "Ouch. Where am I? What is this place? What am I doing here? And why the hell am I wearing lingerie?" she cluelessly asked herself when she slowly stand up to her feet. Whilst, the door opened and she saw a half-naked man approaching her. "Oh, I'm going to make sure that you won't be able to stand up in bed tonight," he cheekily told and put down his gray pants. "Ahh! For Christ's sake, Grey, put your pants on! Eew!!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs while scolding him. He was stunned by what she just said and just stared at her. "What did you just call me?" he asked in a menacing tone of his voice when he realized that she called him by his real name. *** Come and read my story and let's find out what happened to them after their marriage. And, how did she end up in that situation?

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

I'm the most hot-tempered stand-in by Emily Kelley's side. When she smiled at another guy, I smashed her million-dollar car. When she had dinner with a man, I set her multi-million-dollar mansion on fire. Everyone thought Emily would kick me out in anger, but instead, she fell even more in love with me. It turned out my arrogant, jealous attitude was exactly like the lost love she couldn't forget. I spent eight years with her, turning a spoiled heiress into a devoted girlfriend who texts back instantly and apologizes at the first sign of trouble. We were about to get married. My friends envied how well I had trained her and thought we would live happily ever after. But on the day we were supposed to get our license, I waited for her at the city hall for hours—only to find out she had married her first love instead. When I arrived at the wedding, Emily looked at me with complicated eyes and apologized. "You should know you were just a stand-in. I never loved you. Now that my one true love is back, it's time for you to go." As I walked toward the altar, the guests backed away in fear, worried I might lose control. I looked at my system screen, which showed they had already gotten married, and calmly handed her the bouquet. "Got it. Wish you happiness. Have a good life." No one knew that all my jealous tantrums and drama were just me completing missions assigned by the system. Now that she and her first love are finally married, my mission is complete. I can finally go home. This game is over.

I was touching myself in front of the teddy bear on my bed, because I knew a man was watching behind its eyes. He had sneaked into my home, lay on the bed where I slept, and left traces of himself on my clothes. When I noticed, he watched as I hid in a corner, trembling… not knowing that I had been waiting for him for a long time.

Blindfolded and placed on his knees, August has an affair with a stranger—another hook up at the club that leaves him sore, broken, and craving more. Accidentally, he gets a job as a live-in housekeeper in a glass house downtown, just a day after that hook-up. He encounters the hot, right-handed man Levi, whom he can't seem to resist. In the house, everything feels strange, as if eyes are watching and walls are listening. A stalker starts texting him, and he plays along with them. Unknown to him, the house is always watching. Slowly, he started having nightmares, seeing things of his past again, a part he thought he had buried. The house was jogging his memories. He sees a piece of his past in the house, a piece that belonged to his supposedly dead best friend, making him start asking questions about the actual owner of the house. August is trapped with, the anonymous texter that doesn't stop making endless demands, Levi the hot assistant, the flashbacks with the Stranger from the club, and an idea that his supposedly dead friend, might not be dead. This is a raw, unapologetically addictive dark book, where the only way out is deeper in.

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.