Who Was Thelma Todd In The Life And Death Of Thelma Todd?

I was about to kill my mother's murderer…until he almost killed me first. As the daughter of a respected policeman, justice burned in my blood. I watched my mother die at the hands of a Mafia Lord. And I swore to make him pay. But when I confronted Don Theron, I didn't expect to be wrapped up in his arms, his grip choking life out of me. “Say your last prayers, princess,” he growls, tightening his grip like the devil he was. I struggled, I gasped for air, my heart raced but there was no saving from this doom. I thought I was done for. But then he let me go. But my freedom wasn't a gift, it came with a heavy price–a gruesome curse. In a twisted deal with my father, the man who murdered my mother became my husband. Now, every morning I wake up beside a monster who's cloaked in charm, secrets and control. My soul still burns for vengeance, his soul thrives on possession. And with every day that passes by, I wonder… Will I ever make it out of here alive?

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.

When Mirabelle witnesses mafia don,Theo Gaspard commit a murder, her life is his to command. To save her family, she must play the part of the ruthless billionaire's beloved girlfriend, living in his luxury mansion and warming his bed. Theo is a man of ice and control, but the defiant, soft-hearted server ignites a fire in him he can't extinguish. Their forced proximity is a battlefield of whispered threats and stolen, scorching touches which he tells himself it's all to protect his empire. As a deadly betrayal closes in from the heart of his own organization, their dangerous lie becomes the only truth holding them together. But when a secret from the past surfaces, Mirabelle discovers the man who holds her captive is hiding the one truth that could shatter them both.

A lethal neurotoxin had taken hold of my lungs. My time is running out. My mother, Sofia, was the most connected lawyer in Palermo, excelling in burying crimes and twisting the law. When my brother Vincent mowed me down and shattered my leg, she called in every favor to clear his record. My father, Tommaso, the most feared private doctor in Sicily, faked my medical files, branding me unstable and delusional, all to mold me into the obedient son they needed. Then there was Lina, only daughter of Don Vitali, my wife. She said, “We let him out for Vincent’s liver. What if he says no?” Dad’s voice went cold. “He has two choices: lie quietly on that operating table… or waste away in the sanatorium for what’s left of his life.” I pushed the parlor door open, steady and slow. My voice was flat. “I’ll do it.” Every one of them let out a breath they’d been holding, showering me with hollow words. They didn’t know there was no life left to threaten. I had twenty-four hours. By sunrise, I would be dead either way. Funny… now that I’m in the ground, why are they all crying?

Eloise is caught between two worlds—the one she knows, and the one Jensen inhabits. He is both man and myth, cursed to walk a fractured reality where death and desire collide. Drawn to him despite the danger, Eloise discovers that loving Jensen means embracing a truth that blurs the line between life and oblivion. He is a shadow trapped between worlds, and their passion threatens to unravel everything she believes real. In a city where nothing is as it seems, love becomes the ultimate risk—and the only thing worth losing everything for.

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."