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My girlfriend's so-called guy best friend found out I had epilepsy. He deliberately spiked my drink with stimulants. The moment I drank it, my nervous system was overstimulated. My heart rate surged. My chest tightened. Then the familiar warning signs hit–blurred vision, fragmented awareness, the onset of a seizure. The next second, I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the floor. My muscles convulsed violently. My jaw locked tight. My breathing turned uneven. I struggled to pull out the emergency medication I always carried with me, trying to stop the seizure from worsening. However, just as I was about to take it, I realized the hot water in my bottle had been replaced with highly concentrated coffee. The extra caffeine intensified the neurological stimulation. My convulsions worsened. My thoughts became more chaotic. My fingers stiffened to the point where I could barely move. Aaron Stone looked down at me on the floor and laughed. "Not bad. You're pretty convincing. "I've seen plenty of seizure patients before. Never seen anyone act this well." Gasping for air, I forced myself onto my knees in front of Mia, my jaw tightening from the spasms. "Mia... call an ambulance... I'm having a seizure..." Mia frowned at my obvious condition, but there was only impatience on her face. "Enough already. "If you keep acting like this, it's honestly too much. Since when can people having seizures still talk? "Aaron's a doctor. With him here, what could possibly happen to you?" I stopped trying to explain. Because I was already entering the next stage of neurological collapse. Even speaking had become difficult. Using the last of my strength, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency distress message.

Adrian Moretti’s adopted sister—She knew perfectly well that I suffered from severe asthma and could not be exposed to smoke or strong scents. Yet during the yacht reception, she deliberately dragged me onto the open deck, where cigars burned nonstop and the wind howled. Within seconds, my chest tightened. When I reached for my inhaler, my blood ran cold. It was empty. I collapsed against the railing, gasping violently, my lungs burning as if they were collapsing in on themselves. She crouched beside me and smiled. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a little smoke. You don’t need to act like you’re dying,” she said softly. “You’re too weak. You need to build some tolerance.” I looked toward Adrian, my vision already blurring. “Adrian,” I choked. “Give me my inhaler. If I don’t use it right now, I’m going to suffocate.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he said coldly. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a bit of smoke. She’s right—you’re always seeking attention. We finally gathered tonight, and you’re ruining it.” My heart dropped. I fumbled for my phone and called my mother. “Mom,” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “I’m being bullied… and I can’t breathe.” My voice shook violently.

Dad was terrified of being laughed at. Every holiday, he only ever said one thing. “Do not embarrass me.” The relatives were sitting around chatting when I accidentally knocked over a fruit platter on the table. He grabbed me right there and slapped me across the face. At dinner, I reached for a second helping of pot roast, and he kicked my chair out from under me. Later, when it was time to hand out gift cards, Uncle Ray miscounted and came up one short. Without a word, Dad shoved me out into the hallway in nothing but a thin shirt. The cold cut straight through me. I pounded on the door while I cried and apologized. He did not make a sound. He turned to Uncle Ray with an apologetic smile and said, “Sorry about that. I guess I have not taught this kid any manners.” He did not know that his lessons had already conditioned me to flinch at the phrase “laughed at.” Every time I heard it, I froze and felt myself shut down. When I heard him say it again through the closed door, I turned in silence and walked toward the dark bridge at the edge of the neighborhood. I did not know what I planned to do. I only knew I wanted the noise in my head to stop. I reached the railing and stared at the water below. One thought crossed my mind. “Dad, this time, no one will ever laugh at you because of me again.”

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“Lucky advances toward her, and her breathing intensifies. He stop inches from her. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and serious. “I’m certain,” she replies, trying to steady her voice. He studies her for a moment, then asks again, “I don’t think you understand what I’m asking. If I spend the night, I can’t promise to be a gentleman.” She looks at him boldly, her eyes unflinching. “And I’m not asking you to be one tonight.” Daniela Blackwood's life takes an unexpected turn when she gets into a car accident with a handsome stranger, Lucky Hamilton. What starts as a night of despair transforms into an unforgettable night of passion. However, weeks later, Daniela is shattered to discover that Lucky is married to her stepsister, Alicia. Conflicted and heartbroken, Daniela tries to distance herself from the man she unexpectedly fell for. Lucky, on the other hand, has his own side of the story and is determined to explain himself. But Daniela doesn't want to hear it, convinced that any relationship with Lucky is doomed from the start. A surprise pregnancy throws Daniela into turmoil. Struggling with her emotions for a married man and a cruel step mother, Daniela finds herself in a tough situation. The lines between right and wrong blur as she grapples with her growing love for Lucky and the reality of their situation. Can Lucky and Daniela’s feelings for each other overpower the chaos of their own lives? "The Married Man Who Loved Me" is a story of love, betrayal, and redemption.

Four years after my death, my wife—the CEO—was desperate. Her first love was dying of an incurable disease, and I was the only surgeon in the world who could save him. To force me out of hiding, she ran my mother down with her car, leaving her brain-dead with no chance of recovery. She had my father hanged from a tree beside my grave—while he was still alive. Then she went live on social media, threatening to burn my younger sister to death. She was waiting for me—the selfish man, in her eyes—to come crawling back, beg for mercy, and agree to operate on her one true love. But then her men finally looked into my records. "Boss... he's been dead for four years. "He died on the very day he gave you his heart."