Why Did Val Kilmer Leave Top Gun Casting?

When hockey superstar Jake Sullivan's career crashes, the last thing he expects is to find his ex-girlfriend Emma scrubbing floors in his new office building eight years after she crushed his heart and disappeared without a trace. But Emma's hiding more than just her identity; she's been raising his son in secret, a handsome boy with Jake's piercing blue eyes and natural talent on the ice. Now that the truth is out, Jake will stop at nothing to claim his family, even if it means facing the powerful enemies who tore them apart and proving that some love is worth fighting for, no matter how many years have passed.

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

When they were married, billionaire tycoon Mr. Seven said, "That goth bitch is just after my money and my looks. If she dares to ever touch me, I'll chop her up into pieces."After the divorce, Mr. Seven went around telling others, "My wife has been bullied by her family all her life. She is the most gorgeous woman on earth. If you look at her funny, I'll gouge your eyes out!"Mr. Seven, do you even hear what you're saying?

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

‘I knew it was too good to be true.’ ‘They made us seem like they had a perfect marriage.’ ‘She’ll be stupid if she forgives him.’ ‘Poor Valerie. I can only imagine what she’s going through right now.’ My mother snatched my phone from me. “I told you not to read those comments, Valerie.” I scoffed. “I already feel miserable. Those comments wouldn’t make me feel any worse.” “Will you forgive him?” My mother asked. A part of me wanted to forgive him. I still loved Patrick. But I couldn’t move past such betrayal. ~•~ When Patrick Banks discovers his wife, Valerie’s, alleged infidelity with her co-star, he ends their marriage in an instant. Valerie’s desperate attempts to clear her name only led to a devastating revelation that made her give up on her marriage. Years later, fate brings them face to face. Will they be able to forget, forgive, and rebuild, or will the wounds of betrayal prove too deep to heal?

In our circle, everyone assumed that the rebellious bad boy, Dominic Ashford, was madly in love with me. A sworn bachelor, he made an exception just for me. But no one knew that on the night I miscarried, he was out street racing with his unforgettable first love, Vivian Lane. Only after losing his child did he truly transform from a boy into a man. Trading his leather jacket for a suit. Removing his ear studs and putting on glasses. Settling down to stay by my side and manage the business. I thought he had finally understood the meaning of "home." Until the day I was preparing his fifth anniversary gift and, on a whim, tried on those black-rimmed glasses he never took off. In the glow of the smart lenses, I watched my reflection in the mirror transform into Vivian Lane’s face. At that same moment, his computer screen lit up with a message from Vivian: “Dominic, she hasn’t been giving you trouble again, has she? The baby kicked me again today. When are you coming to see us?” In an instant, my blood ran cold. So for the past six months, the love I thought had finally come back to me was nothing more than Dominic looking at me through those AR glasses and seeing another woman. And his sudden devotion, his doting attention to my every need, was all just to keep me, the “stand-in,” content, so the woman he truly loved could carry his child in peace. This time, I didn’t beg with red-rimmed eyes the way I always had before. Instead, I calmly placed the glasses back where I found them and dug out the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago from the bottom of the closet.