Historias cortas de After Death y novelas con Hypocrisy ambientadas en Regret

At the ceremony where my mother, Helena Marlow, received the Best Homeroom Teacher award, the parents wept with gratitude. They praised her for nurturing the students successfully without ever resorting to harsh discipline, and for helping them all to excellent results. But no one knew that the path to their children’s success had been paved by Mom, using me as a warning to others. When someone in the class stole money, cheated on an exam, or got into a romantic relationship, I was the one punished. During the ceremony, the principal, Ms. Wanda Ambrose, stepped onto the stage to present her award. She asked, “Ms. Marlow, you have so many outstanding students in your class. Which student are you most proud of?” Mom smiled with quiet pride. “They are all like my own children. I love every one of them.” Then she let out a small sigh. “Except for my daughter. She alone fails to live up to expectations and disappoints me every time.” Laughter and applause rose from the audience below the stage. They nodded in understanding and praised her for being so modest. I drifted to her side and looked at the satisfied curve of her lips before speaking softly. “Don’t worry, Mom. From now on, I won’t disappoint you anymore.”

I'm at a job interview at a major company. One of the interviewers is my father, Edgar Booker, whom I haven't seen in ten years. He wears a sharp suit and carries himself with an imposing presence. When he sweeps his indifferent gaze over me, he pauses for a rare moment. After the interview ends, the HR manager, Jesse Dorsey, pulls me aside. "You're Mr. Booker's son, right? He says you can start next week." I smile faintly and slowly tear up the offer letter. "No, thanks. I don't want to work with a murderer."

After being forced to go to rogue wolf territory to exchange my mate's kidnapped childhood sweetheart while three months pregnant, I was tortured to death. Before my death, my eight-year-old daughter begged her father three times. The first time, my daughter took her father's hand and said, "Daddy, mommy is pregnant with my little brother. She can't go to the rogue territory." The alpha wolf let out a cold laugh: "How dare your mother teach a pup to lie." Then he had his beta guards drive my daughter out of the pack house. The second time, my daughter grabbed his sleeve and told him the rogue wolves were torturing me with silver. The alpha frowned: "These rogues were hired by your mother to kidnap Willow. How could she really be tortured?" The guards stepped forward and once again pulled my daughter out of the room. The third time, my daughter lay on the floor, desperately clutching his pant leg, crying that I was dying in the rogue wolf territory. The alpha finally lost his temper. He slapped her away with force. "I told you, Ava won't die. She's strong. If you come running back here to disturb Willow's rest again, I'll definitely throw both of you out of the pack territory." To save me, my daughter gave her most precious possession to the most powerful warrior in the pack—the healing gemstone I had given her for her birthday. "Please, can you use this to help save my mother? I don't need protection anymore. I just want my mother to live." The warrior took her healing gemstone, but before he could leave to rescue me, Willow stepped in his way. "Sorry, little pup," she smirked. "The warrior needs to stay here to protect my dog. Your father was afraid I would be sad if anything happened to my pet."

Ever since I was little, my mother, Cynthia, used me as a living cautionary tale whenever she wanted to teach my older brother, Oliver, a lesson. When Oliver bullied a kid at school, she made me shave my head and pick up trash so he could see what it was like to be humiliated and laughed at. When Oliver stole an action camera from an outdoor gear store, she made me kneel in the snow and apologize to the manager so he'd learn what shame felt like. Lately, Oliver had become obsessed with extreme sports and started messing with pills from who-knows-where. To make the lesson stick, Mom secretly mixed something that would make me throw up and a muscle relaxant into the vitamin capsules I took after breakfast every day. She figured a dose that small would only make me throw up and give me diarrhea, just enough to scare my brother. But I had a bad cold and had already taken cold medicine. The combination of drugs soon left me struggling to breathe. I collapsed on the rug, convulsing. Dad rushed me to the ER, but on the way, we hit a police checkpoint. He'd already passed the breathalyzer when Mom shouted at the officers, "You need to check him again! He's on sedatives. How did you miss that?" She pointed at me in the back seat, my face already turning blue, then jerked her chin toward Oliver. "See that? Are you ever going to swallow random pills people give you again?" Oliver burst into tears and swore he'd never touch those pills again. Only then did Mom look satisfied. What she didn't notice was that her living cautionary tale could barely lift a hand. Mom, you're always complaining that Oliver never learns his lesson. Maybe losing me will finally teach him the lesson you've been trying so hard to drill into him. Would that make you happy?

After my sister and I were both diagnosed with liver failure, we were admitted to the same hospital. But only one matching donor liver was available. My family favored her. I still wanted to live. I broke down in the hospital hallway, pleading with my parents for that chance. Someone filmed me and posted the video online. Everyone called me cold and selfish. They said I had sacrificed my humanity just to stay alive. When it was time to sign the preoperative paperwork, my brother finally came to my room. His face was hard. The moment he saw me, he started in on me. He wouldn't even look at me. "This family has always indulged you because you're the youngest. Haven't you caused enough trouble? "Camilla Hale is only twenty. Her life is just beginning. "You've been sickly since childhood, but we've taken care of you all these years. What would it cost you to put her first this once? "You've been sick your whole life, and you've always pulled through." He didn't know Camilla had secretly switched our test results. Before I could tell him, his phone rang. Camilla sobbed on the other end, asking if I was still being heartless. Henry's voice softened as he reassured her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. "This is yours. No one is going to take it from you." Whenever I got sick as a child, my brother, Henry Hale, carried me to the hospital on his back. Back then, he would hold my hand and say, "Livia, I'll be your guardian angel." Now, as I looked at his familiar face, I understood how much trouble I had caused everyone... "All right, Henry. She can have the transplant."

Vito and I had been giving each other the silent treatment for three days, and he never once reached out. With the Family’s enemies hunting me, I hid under a bridge and called him. “Vito, the Colombos are after me. Can you come save me?” Vito said coldly, “Antonia, are you playing the victim again? “I’m in the middle of a Family meeting. Don’t bother me!” The footsteps outside the bridge came closer. I said quietly, “I’m not lying.” He scoffed. “Fine. Wait for me, then.” I curled up under the bridge. The Colombos’ men shot me in the chest. Right up until my breathing stopped, Vito never came...

When the fire trapped me, my Alpha mate, Graeme Blackwood, was throwing a birthday party for my little sister, Ayana. I was locked in the basement, trembling so violently my bones clattered against each other. When the flames first caught, I called him. Begged him. His voice was ice. "Evelyn, stop the act. It's Ayana's birthday. I'm not letting you out just so you can ruin it. Let her have her night. Once she's happy, I'll let you out." I tried to explain. With the last shred of strength I had, I called him again. He hung up on me. So I just watched. Watched the flames swallow everything.

On the fifth year of our hidden marriage, I died on the operating table of a hospital belonging to Allen Jones. Before I died, I called him ninety-nine times, begging for help. The last time, he finally answered. His voice was heavy with impatience. "Enough already. First, it's pregnancy, now it's liver cancer. Can you stop making a scene? I'm exhausted from work. "Mia, when did you learn to lie? Do you know how disgusting you are right now? "I'm warning you—if you keep this up, I'll divorce you. Don't even think about coming back home until you admit you're wrong." But this time, I could never go back. Just before the call ended, I heard him comforting Sadie with a gentleness he had never shown me. "Don't be afraid. The surgery will be over soon, and you'll be fine. Once you're out, I'll take you to see your favorite movie and eat at your favorite restaurant. I promised you, and I'll make it all come true." After he hung up, I called him for the hundredth time. He didn't answer. Later, when Allen saw my body on the operating table, he broke down completely.

My fiancé's first love was taking photos on a cliff before the landslide. To save her, he actually left me behind on the crumbling edge. I pleaded with him to save me. "Lucy isn't physically strong—she can't handle this alone. You've always been resilient. I'll get Lucy to safety first, then come back for you." Their silhouettes vanished over the ridge. After a brief commotion, everything went silent. Including me, with my freshly sprained ankle. When he saw the news of my death, he completely fell apart.

I was human once. Three years ago, Count Dorian Draven turned me into a vampire and took me as his wife. Back then, I believed he truly loved me. But he would often get lost staring at an oil painting that hung in the tower. I knew it was a portrait of Lenore Blackwell, his dead lover. Then, one night at midnight, I saw it with my own eyes. Dorian's soul slipped into the painting, where he wrapped his arms around a completely naked Lenore. Dorian's voice was lazy and husky. "By tomorrow, you'll be fully alive again. Then you'll take Alyona's place as Countess." Lenore laughed softly. "Dorian, I knew there was no vampire more powerful than you. To think you actually found a way to use necromancy to resurrect my soul in her body." I stood outside the door, my face expressionless. So he'd never loved me. He'd only turned me to bring his lover back to life. I didn't storm in and confront him. Instead, while they were lost in each other, I ripped down the blackout curtain and draped it over the painting, covering it completely. Then I fastened the curtain securely to the frame with the Holy Silver Lock. Now that his soul was inside the painting, the frame would be his prison forever. I sold the painting to the Blood Pit, the most depraved underground nightclub in the city. It was a haven for every kind of vice, and I made sure the painting hung right at the center of it all. For a single copper coin, anyone could humiliate the pair however they pleased. I used my power to reverse the necromancy spell, trapping their souls in an endless loop along the edges of the painting. No matter how far they went, they'd never find a way out. Once so proud and untouchable, Dorian was now trapped inside the painting, humiliated again and again until he finally snapped.

My mother, Agatha Carper, is obsessed with playing the devoted-mother role. To show what a kind and loving person she is, she has spent years sharing her journey of caring for her adopted daughter, Bonnie Lowe, online. "Bonnie, even if I have to spend every last penny I have, I'll cure you." To make that happen, she treats me, her biological daughter, like a walking blood bank and drains me for everything I'm worth. Just as the internet is praising her for being the perfect mother, Bonnie has another relapse and urgently needs a blood transfusion. Agatha storms into the hospital emergency room with a swarm of reporters and a camera crew, kicking the door open. "Where is Julia Lowe, that ungrateful brat? She eats my food and lives off me. Now that her sister's sick, she's hiding away and pretending she's dead?" She rushes straight to the nurses' station and starts wailing in front of the cameras. "Everyone knows how much I've sacrificed for this family! Yet, that ungrateful brat has the nerve to refuse to donate blood! Draw 800 cc from her right now! She can survive that much!" The head nurse steps out, her expression cold, and slams a death certificate in front of the camera. "There's nothing else to take. You forcibly drained her of her blood a month ago, and she died from massive blood loss after developing complications."

I am the daughter of the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my parents are very rich, but I have nothing. When black magic was eating away at me with a month to live, I asked to borrow ten dollars and they said I was "not worthy." I dragged my sickly body to buy the cheapest herbal medicine, but I saw them spending billions of dollars to celebrate my foster sister Vivian's 18th birthday. Tears streamed down my face, I just wanted to spend ten dollars on a piece of fabric and make my own ceremonial robe, even though I wouldn't live to be eighteen.

After my husband, Brice Decker, gives me a cold shoulder, I end up dying after getting stabbed three times in a row by a robber who tries to rob me. My twin sister, Indigo Humphrey, specifically dresses up as me and gets close to Brice in order to clear her gambling debt. She begins kissing up to Brice like a total simp. No longer does she get jealous over Brice's first love, Amber Warner. Even when Brice and Amber are caught sleeping with each other on our bed, Indigo will deliver them a pack of contraceptives in time. Brice can't take it anymore. He asks Indigo where my jealous side has gone. That's when I laugh. Can't he tell that I'm already dead?

The night we fought for the port, I took a ricin-laced bullet for my husband, Don Nick Valenti. As I lay dying, Dr. Bruno Esposito, the Valenti family's doctor, brought out the last dose of antiserum. He said a shot right away would save me. But Nick injected the lifesaving serum into Mia Conti instead. Mia suddenly developed stomach cramps, so Nick ordered Bruno to give her the antiserum slowly through an IV. He ignored the fact that I could barely breathe and my skin was turning blue. Isabella Valenti, Nick's mother and the former Donna, clutched her crucifix. “Your wife is the one who was poisoned, Nick! Why are you saving Mia?” Nick pressed a cotton ball to Mia's arm to stop the bleeding. “Mia's been sheltered her whole life. She's never had so much as a scratch. Julia's survived more gunshot wounds than I can count. She'll pull through this one too.” Isabella's face went cold and hard. “Julia has pulled you out of gunfire at least ten times. Her father and brother both died helping you seize power! And you won't even give her the antiserum that could save her life?” Nick's voice was cold. “Mother, I never forced them to do any of it! When Julia married me, she made her vows before God. She loves me. She chose all of this.” He came over to my bed and touched my face. “Julia, I know you're stronger than this. I'll have Bruno do everything he can. You're my wife and the Donna of the Valenti family.” He looked as tender as he had the night before, when he had held me in his arms. I looked at the empty syringe in his hand, and suddenly, none of it felt worth it anymore. “Nick Valenti! You had better pray I don't survive. “Because if I do, you'll answer to God for everything you've done!”

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

During the pack's wilderness training, my adopted sister, Tessa, shoved me from a cliffside thick with wolfsbane. My Alpha, Fenrir, turned and left with Tessa feigning injury in his arms, leaving me for dead at the bottom of the ravine. I died instantly, but my soul lingered, watching everything with cold detachment. I watched as Tessa's tearful complaints swayed him into blaming me for my own disappearance. "Will Selene ever stop causing me trouble?" "She's weak and always looking for trouble. How could she possibly be fit to be our Luna?" He had no idea I was already dead at the bottom of that cliff choked with wolfsbane. Five whole days. The poison hit my bloodstream like liquid fire, racing through my veins with merciless speed. As my body decayed under the moonlight, my love for him faded with it. The title of Luna, the magnificent coronation I had dreamed of, everything I once cherished was now meaningless. The Selene who loved him was well and truly dead.

My Alpha mate nearly lost his life during a vicious rogue wolf attack. It was his assistant Scarlett who threw herself forward and took the silver blade meant for him, saving his life. But because of the silver poisoning, Scarlett's wolf fell into a feral rage state. The pack witch said she would need to mate with an Alpha every full moon to survive. Out of gratitude, my mate fucked her every full moon and my wolf would suffer greatly from the perceived betrayal of my mate. He knelt before me, tears streaming down his face, his whole body trembling. "Evelyn, she saved my life! I can't just watch her die!" After each full moon, he would give me a million dollars as compensation. And every time Scarlett miscarried, he would bring me the finest healing herbs to ease the pain I felt through our mate bond from his betrayal. In just one year, my bank account grew astronomically. I became the bank's most valued client. Until this time, when he disappeared with Scarlett for three months. When he returned, he dropped to his knees and grabbed my hands, pleading desperately. "Evelyn, if she miscarries again, she'll die! I... I can't let my savior perish!" "I'll claim the child as yours and cut all ties with her. Please, just let this child be born, okay?" My eyes instantly filled with tears. I fought hard to keep them from falling. "Fine." If that's how it is, then the pup I traded my life force to the witch for... I'll get rid of it.

When I was trapped by large columns of fire alongside Reya, my firefighter husband appeared and chose to only rescue her. I got on my knees inside the sea of fire and begged him to save me, too. He jabbed a merciless kick at me. “You are evil through and through, Amaranth. Are you not going to give Reya a chance to live at least? I will never forgive you for starting this fire to kill her!” At this point, his forgiveness no longer mattered. After he rescued his former lover from the scene, I was burned to a crisp alongside the baby inside me.