Love Letters Of Great Man Quotes

My best friend and my husband, Lorenzo Bartoli, fought every time they met. Lorenzo was the Don of the family, while my best friend was his Consigliere. She always fiercely opposed his most ruthless, high-risk decisions. Tempers explode every single time. But there was one rule that they both agreed on without any hesitation. No one was allowed to touch me. Because of them, no one in the city dared to cross me. Until the fifth month of my pregnancy, when I went down to the basement vault to organize Lorenzo's guns for him. I opened the safe to see stacks of letters, hundreds of them, all unsent. I picked one up. The moment I opened the letter, cold dread overwhelmed me. The receiver of the letter wasn't me. [My dearest Sofia…] I quickly scanned downward to the final lines of the letter. [If I don't make it back alive, everything in the Swissie accounts goes to you. As for Vittoria, she's a good woman, but I have never loved her.] With trembling hands, I tore open the rest of the letters like a hysterical woman. Three hundred of them in total. Every single one was addressed to Sofia Finzi. Sofia was not a stranger. She was my best friend.

This book gathers different love stories, yes, love stories. All these stories that I collected over time, that were told to me by friends, acquaintances, relatives and others from my own imagination ink. And perhaps, there is some coincidence.

Aurora's life became a mess, a total mess. Her life was perfect at first. A loving family, a happy home. Her life was simple and perfect. But the arrival of a letter was what caused her whole world to crumble, but in a way, started a new beginning for her. **** Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Her breath coming out as small sighs. They were so close, noses slightly rubbing. She couldn't believe what was happening. She had tried to run away from him but she kept falling into his arms. His hazel coloured eyes watched her every move, a charming yet devilish grin plastered on his face. He had his arm over her head. "Your.." "Why do you try to run? Have you forgotten that you live under my roof?" He asked. She shivered when he ran his thumb on her cheek. "Please let me go" She pleaded. She felt light-headed because of his proximity. "How can I when I'm not even holding you." He asked with a smirk. Her expression pleased him. He leaned towards her ear and whispered; "You can hide all you want, but you'll always come back to me, both as a king and as a man."

When I was 4, I met this guy. When I was 12, were together 8 years When I was 14, I foolishly discovered that I had loved him for a long time. When I was 17, we were a couple. When I was 18, we were a long way apart. I hope it's still you in the next life. Again, when I am 18, I finally met you. In my life, I admit I will lose to your hands.

I loved Liam with everything I had, waiting for the day he'd finally accept me wholeheartedly as his wife. I watched him bring his mistress to our home without complaining. And I had no intention to complain as our marriage was obviously an arranged one even though I loved him. Hence I waited patiently for the day he'd finally see through my sincerity and show me even the tiniest bit of affection. However, five years down the line, nothing had changed. Liam was still the same, bringing his mistress into our home, and frolicking around the city with her. I endured it all for the sake of Grandma Helen. But when Grandma Helen died, I had no reason to remain in the marriage anymore and must give him a divorce. I gave you enough chance to love me as your woman but since you couldn't do that, I’d be gone from your life for good.

I was born into a line of vampire hunters, but I was hopeless at it. I couldn't pass a single trial, couldn't make a single kill, so my family dumped me in the countryside and left me to rot. When they brought me back at eighteen, they packaged me up and handed me to the vampire noble Lucian von Karstein as his lowest blood-slave. I had already made my peace with being drained dry and tortured to death. He turned out to be nothing like what I expected. He built me a villa with good light. Every morning before dawn he went out to the garden and picked flowers still wet with dew, and left them by my pillow. When his family ordered him to kill me, he gave up five hundred years of glory for my sake. He surrendered his power, his title, his castle. He traded everything he had to keep me safe, and in the end he ran with me, away from the whole vampire world. But there was a curse in my blood. Every time I let myself feel something for him, it punished me, gnawing my heart to pieces one inch at a time. So all I could do was call him useless, force him to buy me jewelry, drive him away from my bed, and humiliate him every way I knew how. He ended up living in the garage, hauling cargo to survive, supporting a spoiled, vicious wife who treated him like dirt. One night I crept into his little partition and pulled back his collar. There was a burn the length of my hand, gotten from hauling freight day and night just to buy me a gift. I hid in the bathroom and ran the tap to cover the sound of crying. Dabbing ointment on the wound, sniffling, I asked the thing in my blood: "Curse. When is he finally going to hate me and leave?" The curse looked at the back of his hand, wet where my tears had fallen, then at the faint tremor of his lashes, and sighed. He's going to love you for the rest of his life.