Does A Helping Hand Ghost Of Tsushima Choice Affect Endings?

“We need help,” The man supporting the other up said roughly, voice strained like he’d been screaming. “Are you a doctor?.” He hefted the slumped man up and said, “He’s been shot.” “Y-yes,” Gianna managed to choke out, but she had to lean on a nearby wall as she saw the gun. And it was aimed at her. The third man, snapped out, “You save him. Now.” “The clinic isn’t--” “Now!” The man thundered, gesturing down to the gun. “Or I’m not going to be heartbroken about emptying a bullet into you.” *** *** Their worlds were never meant to collide. He was the boss of the Mariposa Mafia after all, he was ruthless, insane, cunning, the shadow king of the underground… he had no time for love. But somehow that all changes the first time Dante laid his eyes on the beautiful doctor coerced with a gun to her head to save their boss’s life. For Gianna, the rules for being a doctor in gang territory were simple: keep her clinic open at all costs, treat her patients with care, watch out for her rebellious little brother, Giovanni, and most of all, avoid the thugs. The last thing she expected was to get caught up in a gang war, or to find herself falling for Mariposa’s leader himself, Ferrari Dante. And in a world where rules are everything, sometimes breaking them can mean the end of everything, like helping Dante. That is, if her heart doesn't kill her first. Dante never fathomed he would... care, so much about her, about anyone. Or maybe it’s deeper than just caring as Gianni shows him a whole new perspective to the world. .

I was a brilliant artist. But I crushed my right hand saving my mafia husband, Vincent, and my ability to create died with it for three years. Vincent promised he'd make me whole again. Our private doctor swore he was doing everything he could. But my hand remained numb, useless. Then, one day, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world. "Make sure she can never create again," Vincent told the doctor. "I can't have Isabella threatening Sophia's place in the art world!" "But, Mr. Torrino, another procedure might... she could lose the hand for good." "I don't care what happens to her! Sophia saved my life. I will not let her down!" It turned out my husband was the one who had destroyed me. And the assassin, Sophia, was the woman he truly loved. He let her claim my designs, turning her into the art world’s new darling while I was trapped in a broken body. When I confronted him, pregnant with our child, he slapped me in public and told the world I was losing my mind. That night, I burned everything that bound me to him. Then I dialed an encrypted number I hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime. "Grandpa. In three days, I need to disappear."

Just 8 years ago she had packed up the only life she knew and run away. Away from the clutches of her small town life. Now she is forced to go back to that pathetic place. She cursed under her breath as she got off at the railway station. She was back, the realization had finally hit her, her eyes moistened and her cheeks flushed. But she told herself that it was because of the cold wind. She won't cry, not now, or all she had done would be for nothing. She picked her bags, clutched their handles tightly and walked out of the railway station towards the parking spot. Mason was waiting for her there, the only person she still talks to from her hometown. He rushed upto her, took her bags, placed them in trunk and opened the car door for Cornelia. Once they both were settled and warm inside the car, he finally asked her, "How are u Cornelia?" This question sort of opened her tear doors, she started sobbing trying her best not to cry. ......................... A series of unfortunate events have pushed Cornelia Von back to her hometown. A place she willfully despises!! But there is an interesting new comer waiting for her in this town :)

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

On April Fool’s Day, my CEO husband cut out my heart to save his childhood sweetheart's son. After the surgery, he tossed me into a cold rental apartment, where I died in agony. Three days after my death, my five-year-old daughter played in the room as usual. Walking by the sofa, she wrinkled her little nose and mumbled, "Mommy, there's a weird smell in here." She touched my face and murmured, "Mommy, are you pretending to be Snow White? Why are you so pale?" She shook my arm harder and raised her voice, "Mommy, it's my birthday today—get up and blow out the candles!" Confused, she picked up the phone and called her father. “Daddy, did I make Mommy mad? I lit the candles, but no matter how much I call her, she won’t wake up.” On the other end of the call, Patrick Hart’s voice was cold and impatient. “What could possibly be wrong with her? She’s just pretending to be asleep for sympathy. It’s Johnny’s birthday, I’m busy. Don’t bother me! Tell your melodramatic mother to stop playing her little tricks. I don't have time to humor her." My daughter removed the candle from her bun, pinched off a piece of the bun, and fed it to me. "Mommy, I made a secret wish… I really wish you could hold me again, just like before."

An abused little girl whose life has been too hard on her, but that won't last for long. A little brat but not for long either, there would be someone to tame her. She never thought she could be her authentic self, a little, brat, someone to be loved until him, who could fall for her? A hacker, a mafia member, a part of the family But he's also a daddy, her brother's best friend, and he's not someone to be messed with, and he wants her to be his, with all her traumas and trust issues. This is their story.