What Are The Main Themes Explored In The Quick And The Dead Novel?

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”

After years of living abroad without children, I decided to return home to handle my inheritance matters. However, before I could step into my house, I was stopped by a group of people at the entrance. The woman leading the group pointed at me and started screaming. "I can't believe someone as young as you is seducing a man old enough to be your father! How disgusting can you be?" I watched her, noticing how much she resembled my older brother, and I was shaking with rage. They pulled out my fingernails, broke my ribs, and slashed my face, dragging me around the neighborhood as I begged for mercy. Yet, they remained indifferent to my pleas. Just as I was on the verge of losing hope, my brother, Edward Grange rushed over.  Through a mouthful of blood, I managed to choke out, "Ed, I’d rather die than let her inherit my inheritance…”

Quinn, a sweet, social and bubbly turned cold and became a badass. She changed to protect herself caused of the dark past experience with guys she once trusted. Evander will come into her life will become her greatest enemy, the villain of her life, but fate brought something for them, she fell for him but too late before she found out a devastating truth about him. What dirty secret of the villain is about to unfold? And how will it affect the badass?

In my previous life, my best friend gave me a lock-shaped good-luck pendant. I never expected that once I put it on, it would never come off. Soon after, I came down with a fever that lasted seven days straight. When I finally woke up, everything in my life began to fall apart. Misfortune followed me everywhere. That was when I discovered the truth—I had swapped fates with her husband. He would get my wealth while I would get a short, ill-fated life. From then on, the two of them lived a life of effortless wealth, making money without even lifting a finger. Meanwhile, I sank into poverty, plagued by constant bad luck. I struggled through life and did not even make it to 30 before I was killed in a car accident. As I died, my mentally disabled younger brother cried out and rushed in front of me to shield me. However, he could not stop the incoming vehicle, and we died there together. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the moment she was about to put the pendant on me. I let out a cold smile and pondered. Since she was so desperate to steal my wealthy fate, then she could have a XYY husband instead.

I marry Mason Longbright, my savior, at 24. For five years, Mason's erectile dysfunction and bipolar disorder keep us from ever sleeping together. He can't satisfy me when I want him, so he uses toys on me instead. But during his manic episodes, his touch turns into torment, leaving me bruised and broken. On my birthday night, I catch Mason in bed with another woman. Skin against skin, Mason drives into Amy Becker with a rough, ravenous urgency, his desire consuming her like a starving beast. Our friends and family are shocked, but no one is more devastated than I am. And when Mason keeps choosing Amy over me at home, I finally decide to let him go. I always thought his condition kept him from loving me, but it turns out he simply can't get it up with me at all. I book a plane ticket and instruct my lawyer to deliver the divorce papers. I am determined to leave him. To my surprise, Mason comes looking for me and falls to his knees, begging for forgiveness. But this time, I choose to treat myself better.

When my son was born, I noticed a small, round birthmark on his arm. But the weird thing? By the time I opened my eyes again after giving birth, it was gone. I figured maybe I'd imagined it. That is, until the baby shower. My brother-in-law's son, born the same day as mine, had the exact same birthmark. Clear as day. That's when it hit me. I didn't say a word, though. Not then. I waited. Eighteen years later, at my son's college acceptance party, my brother-in-law stood up and dropped the truth bomb: the "amazing" kid I'd raised was theirs. I just smiled and invited him and his wife to take their "rightful" seats at the table.