How Does Mrs. Moretti Affect The Plot Of Erased?

Five years into my marriage to Dante Moretti, the Don of the Chicago Outfit, the entire underworld knew he loved me more than life itself. He’d had a violin—for me—tattooed right next to his family crest, a symbol of loyalty that could never be erased. Until I got the photo from his mistress. A cocktail waitress, sprawled naked in his arms, her skin marred by the dark bruises of rough sex. She had scrawled her name right next to the violin he’d gotten for me. And my husband had let her. "Dante says only being inside me makes him feel like a man anymore. You can’t even get him hard anymore, can you, sweet Alessia? Maybe it’s time to step aside." I didn't reply. I just made a single call. “I need a new identity. And a plane ticket out.”

A love lost to memory. A vow erased with words. A secret worth killing for. Three years ago, Elsie Monroe was Liam Grey's secret wife. Until a suspicious accident stole his memory and erased their love from his life just a day before they were to go public with their relationship, now he’s a cold, untouchable billionaire, engaged to a woman chosen by power and bloodline. And Elsie? She’s returned under a false name, determined to uncover the truth behind the crash that nearly killed him and his family who wanted her gone. Working as his assistant in the empire they once dreamed of building together, Elsie walks a tightrope of forgotten kisses and secret glances. Liam doesn’t remember but his soul does. Every touch lingers. Every look makes him question the life carefully crafted around him. But as Elsie digs deeper, she discovers a darker truth buried in her mother’s past. One that could bring down the Grey family. Someone wants those secrets buried forever, even if it means destroying her again. Now what could be the reason behind the scar on her neck?

Opening my eyes in an unfamiliar place with unknown faces surrounding me, everything started there. I have to start from the beginning again, because I am no longer Ayla Navarez and the world I am currently in, was completely different from the world of my past life. Rumi Penelope Lee. The cannon fodder of this world inside the novel I read as Ayla, in the past. The character who only have her beautiful face as the only ' plus ' point in the novel, and the one who died instead of the female lead of the said novel. She fell inlove with the male lead and created troubles on the way. Because she started loving the male lead, her pitiful life led to met her end. Death. Because she's stupid. Literally, stupid. A fool in everything. Love, studies, and all. The only thing she knew of, was to eat and sleep, then love the male lead while creating troubles the next day. Even if she's rich and beautiful, her halo as a cannon fodder won't be able to win against the halo of the heroine. That's why I've decided. Let's ruin the plot. Because who cares about following it, when I, Ayla Navarez, who became Rumi Penelope Lee overnight, would die in the end without even reaching the end of the story? Inside this cliché novel, let's continue living without falling inlove, shall we?

Sunday, the 10th of July 2030, will be the day everything, life as we know it, will change forever. For now, let's bring it back to the day it started heading in that direction. Jebidiah is just a guy, wanted by all the girls and resented by all the jealous guys, except, he is not your typical heartthrob. It may seem like Jebidiah is the epitome of perfection, but he would go through something not everyone would have to go through. Will he be able to come out of it alive, or would it have all been for nothing?

My younger sister and I were born twins, yet from the very beginning, our parents had zero fondness for me. My sister was the family's good-luck charm, while I was hailed as the harbinger of misfortune. I was blamed for every calamity, while she got all the credit for every blessing. Even after my death, I heard them say, "If we had abandoned her at birth, or even ended her life then, none of this would have happened." I had once tried desperately to win their approval, only to be met with cold indifference. When I finally secured a coveted civil service post, they celebrated me for the first time in my life. I naively believed that I had been acknowledged at last. But then, they said, "Give your job to your sister. She needs it more." At that moment, something inside me completely died. I tried so hard to cling to the hard-won proof that I was not the family's misfortune, yet even that slipped through my grasp. In the end, I lost everything, even the life they had never once cherished.

Ten years. Ten years I gave Viktor Volkov everything; my hands, my loyalty, my designs, my silence. When his father stepped in front of a moving truck to save my life and died on that pavement, I became his son's by debt. By duty. And somewhere along the way, by something far more dangerous than either. Love. Foolish, one-sided, ruinous love. Now the doors of the Volkov estate are closing behind me with the quiet finality of a verdict. No argument. No goodbye worth remembering. Just the click of a latch and the ghost of a matching tattoo Viktor had lasered off his wrist before she arrived Elara Conti, all silk and Italian marble, the woman he chose in the time it took me to stop pretending he ever saw me. He gutted my studio. Erased my name from every wall. Turned ten years into a footnote. What Viktor doesn't know is that I'm walking out of those gates carrying the one thing he can never erase. His. And I will burn this entire life to the ground before I let him find out.