What Happens To Tante Sara At The End?

Yara and Andrian. They met in an orphanage, grew up together, and together they fought every storm that shot their way. When a couple chose to adopt Yara, she turned them down, sacrificing a lifetime opportunity just to stay with Andrian, because he was the one for her. Because they only had each other. Years later, tears welled up in Yara's eyes as Andrian recited his vows to her, promising her a forever filled with warmth and love. " Excuse me, miss. You have got the wrong person. I am Andrian Fox, and this is my fiancée." Two years later after their wedding, Yara, utterly drained and heartbroken, stood next to the intimidating Fox conglomerate, looking at her husband, the same man that once promised her a forever, his gaze warm and affectionate as he looked at his said 'fiancée', a beautiful heiress, with status that equally matched the newly found Fox family's long-lost heir, Adrian Fox. With his new identity uncovered as the heir to the great Fox fortune, a beautiful heiress as his new fiancée and the bright future ahead, what will Andrian do? What about the vows that he once made to Yara? And Yara, shattered by the betrayal, broken beyond repair, will she pick herself up? Will love visit her again? Driven by pain and thirst for revenge, how far can Yara soar?

My wife cheated on me—with my cousin. The three of us were headed to sign divorce papers when bam—car crash. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we got our marriage license. This time, no fights, no drama. We both knew it was over. She ditched me for Jason fast and skipped the country with him. I stayed behind, buried in law books and case files. Five years later, she was famous—thanks to Jason pulling strings. Concerts, cash, fans screaming her name. Me? Still grinding at a law firm, backing folks who needed real legal help. Then came the family reunion. She showed up on Jason's arm, smug and shining, throwing shade like it was sport. But when I mentioned I was settling down with someone else? Her face snapped. "I made one dumb mistake! How DARE you move on?!"

On the day of the earthquake, my sister Elena shoved me off the third floor, then burst into tears and said she had only been trying to save me. Everyone believed her. The only person who stood on my side was Nicolo, the youngest mafia boss Sicily had seen in decades. He lifted me out of the rubble, then proposed to me in front of everyone and said that from that day on, anyone who touched me would answer to him. Two months later, I was pregnant. Nicolo bought an entire island and planted it with my favorite irises for our wedding. My father spent a fortune on a one-of-a-kind gown made just for me. Everyone said I was the most envied woman in the family. Then I went into labor, and both of them disappeared. My father said the family had a deal on the line. Nicolo kissed my swollen belly, murmured that he would be back soon, and promised to bring gifts for me and the baby. Right before I was wheeled into the delivery room, an anonymous video landed on my phone. Nicolo was wearing a groom's suit. Elena stood beside him with a hand resting on her pregnant stomach. She was wearing my wedding dress. Her arm was looped through my fiance's as if she had won him fair and square. At the end of the clip, my father asked in a lowered voice, "If you and Valentina stay married only on paper, what happens to the child she gives birth to?" Nicolo was quiet for two seconds before he answered. "Valentina grew up with everything. Elena spent her whole life carrying the stain of being illegitimate. Her child will not grow up the same way." So all that tenderness had never been for me. It had all been for Elena. Fine. They could have each other.

Gianna Rossi struggled in the slums for over a decade before she accidentally discovered she was the biological daughter of the don of the Ricci famiglia, also known as the Gray Wolf famiglia, Domenico Ricci. She tried to reunite with her family, only to be ruthlessly driven away by the Soldati outside the estate. They left her battered and bruised. Her lover, Matteo Santoro, wiped the blood from her wounds and swore he would infiltrate the famiglia himself to seek revenge against the Ricci family's fake Principessa on her behalf. Once he successfully seized power and took control of the Riccis' arms operation, he would restore Gianna to her rightful place as the cherished daughter of the Ricci family. She believed in his sacrifice and endurance. She hid in the shadows as his secret lover, convinced that his public displays with the fake Principessa were nothing but an act. Yet one night, Matteo got engaged to the fake Principessa. Gianna stood in the corner wearing a server's uniform, watching their happiness unfold. She was a fool who had been played for.

Ever since my husband, the mafia capo Rocco Marchetti, poured all his attention and the family's resources into his brother's widow, the woman whose husband took a bullet for him. I found our daughter Tessy's diary, where she had started writing, "My Papa is gone." A nun from her private Catholic school called, asking about his passing. I paused for a moment. "Yes," I replied. "He passed away a long time ago." On Father's Day, the school organized a trip to the church to light prayer candles. While other children wrote cards praying for their fathers' safety, Tessy neatly wrote just two words on hers: "To Heaven." During the parent-teacher open house, the nuns displayed the children's decorated diaries on their desks. The theme for their entries was My Father. My Papa died in a shootout in the next neighborhood over. A lady there wouldn't stop crying, and then Papa never came home. After every entry like this, she would clutch the crucifix on her necklace, her small hand gripping it so tightly her palm grew slick with sweat. Eventually, Rocco sensed the growing chill at home. He dropped everything and rushed back to the estate with a bouquet of expensive red roses, hoping to celebrate his daughter's birthday with her. The door opened. On the coffee table lay Tessy's new diary, its title scrawled in a childish hand: If Papa Were Still Alive.

My aunt has one leg amputated after getting into an accident. It's at this time that her beloved daughter chooses to leave the country. From that day onward, I care for my aunt like she's my own mother. We spend 15 years together. She's grateful for my care and promises she'll leave all her money to me after her death. However, my cousin returns to the country when my aunt is on the brink of death. My aunt goes back on her word and gives my cousin everything. She only gives me 50 thousand dollars as compensation for my "caretaking services". I've spent 15 years on her only to get 50 thousand dollars—it's such an insult. I'm so stunned by this that I trip and fall into a river. I drown. When I open my eyes, I've been taken back 15 years in time…