2pac Autopsy Photo

Five years into my marriage to Ethan Morgan, I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. He'd bought a private island in my name. He'd asked me to quit my career to rest. He called me his queen. What he didn't know was that I never stopped designing — under a different name, a secret identity no one knew about. Not even him. Then his secretary left a review on my designer account, raving about the dress her "billionaire boyfriend" had gifted her. The island in the photo was mine. The man beside her was my husband. [He says his wife doesn't satisfy his real needs.] [Only if he didn't need an heir from her, she'd already be gone.] I was pregnant with that heir. And he would never know. I made one call: "I need a new identity. And a divorce agreement."

Five years ago, the Gotti family, who were on the verge of bankruptcy, managed to rise from the ashes thanks to my investment. Eventually, they develop their company into a firearms company that's well-known in the west, and they earn over hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of profits annually. At the celebratory party, Elena Bellini, the HR manager who has only joined the company for less than a month, shows my photo and my salary. She then berates me for skipping out on work and stealing from the company. "Half a year ago, Valentina went missing for more than a month for no reason! Even when she's needed for work at the company, she's nowhere to be found! "Also, how can a bottom feeder like her afford to spend money at the high-end restaurants and malls?" Elena keeps her head raised high as she looks at me in disdain. "The reason why Valentina has disappeared is so that she can steal expensive items from the company and sell them to other clients! This photo of her stealing a bottle of red wine is the proof! "I strongly suggest that Valentina is to be dismissed on the spot! We can't let her continue breaking the company's rules!" I remain silent as I turn to look at Matteo Gotti, the CEO of the company. He knows that a bunch of robbers had stolen a batch of important products half a year ago. I was the one who had snatched everything back without a weapon under my arsenal, seeing as I had walked past the warehouse by coincidence at that time. Because of that, I ended up getting injured and had to spend a month just to recuperate. Matteo also knows that I've taken the red wine just to entertain the other mafia leaders, who happen to be the company's clients. That red wine isn't for my own consumption at all. But he has the nerve to chuck the folder away angrily before glaring at me coldly, as though I truly am a criminal. "Valentina Caruso, is Elena speaking the truth? You'd better explain yourself right now!" I just sneer at him in return. "I have nothing to say." The frightening reality and the outcome, which is obviously a failure, is the best explanation I've given them.

On the day I get back together with Leo Laycond, he uploads a photo of us on his social media account. I stare at the post for three long minutes until I notice a silver lock icon on the bottom right corner. It turns out that Leo has blocked Lisa Laycand, his younger adopted sister. That sister of his is always the person he cares about the most. I tell Leo calmly, "If you yearn for Lisa even more, I can always cancel the mating ceremony." Leo panics immediately. He deletes the restriction in front of the entire pack so that they can witness our reunion. Half an hour later, Lisa rushes into the training grounds in nothing but a thin dress. Then, she "collapses" in front of Leo. I watch as Leo scoops Lisa into his arms. It's an action that's very familiar to him, as though he's done it hundreds of times. Suddenly, I realize that the engagement with Leo bores me to no end.

I sat at the table, watching the food grow cold, much like my heart. Today was my birthday. It was also Leslie Buck's birthday—Katherine White's childhood sweetheart. I unlocked my phone and opened Leslie's social media page. As expected, a new post awaited me. "Grateful to have you by my side for every birthday. Let's keep our promise to celebrate every one of them together in the future!" The photo showed two hands forming a heart in front of a cake. One of them was Katherine's. I could tell from the bracelet she wore. It was the one I had given her. I gave the post a like, then set my phone aside. Without hesitation, I dumped the dishes Katherine liked into the trash and went out to a restaurant to order the food I liked, celebrating my birthday alone. From now on, I would make sure to enjoy every birthday of mine.

On the night of her graduation, Elle lost her mum and her best friend Ethan went missing. Her mum's death was strange. She was found dead and dry, with no blood in her when an autopsy was conducted. The only injury on her was two tiny dots on her neck. How she died, she didn't know. But everything pointed to Ethan. Elle had left him with her mum that night, only to come back to meet the worst scenario that tormented her life. This happened five years ago when at the age of eighteen, she moved on and re-established her mum's business known as EL corporations. Now 23 years old, her nightmares started again when Ethan came back. ~~EXCERPT~~ Her emotions swirled all over the place. She was still the stupid Elle. She trusted people easily, but what did they do? They pay her back with heartache and pain. "Elle, I warn you," He said slowly walking toward her like the predator he was. Elle gazed fiercely at him "What are you going to do? Lock me up? Or drink me to death.?!" Ethan smiled, the smile that weakened her bones, that shook her very core and being. "Elle, if you run, I chase, and if I catch?" He took her by the waist and pulled her to him. Their body was so close that his hot breath fanned her neck turning her red. Ethan's hand tightened around her waist "You make me lose my sanity Elle, do you know that?" He bent toward her inhaling her sweet scent that always invaded his senses. Elle's eye's turned wild "Let me go this instant!" Ethan's eye's darkened when he gazed down at her luscious red lips. Before he knew it, his mouth captured her lips in a warm sweet kiss.

Brooklyn pulled her phone from her designer handbag to take a photo of her marriage certificate, but her husband snatched the marriage certificate from her hand and asked coldly, “What do you think you are doing, Brooklyn?” Brooklyn looked at her new husband with eyes full of love and replied, “I want to share our happiness with people who are important in my life, Preston.” A surge of anger rose in Preston’s heart, and he said, “Listen carefully, Brooklyn. You will never have my heart. You are nothing but my nominal wife. Please ensure that our marriage remains a secret. Should you disclose our marital status to your so-called important people, you will face consequences.” Brooklyn felt that her heart had been squeezed by invisible hands. The pain was so intense that she couldn’t breathe. Brooklyn swiftly regained her composure before meeting her husband’s gaze. She looked at her husband with eyes that were calm but devoid of any warmth and replied, “I understand, Mr James.”

"Just because you were right, doesn't mean I'm wrong. You just haven't seen life from my side." Nicholae's tears, despite his cold heart, voluntarily dropped to his cheeks. "Maybe the reason you left me was that you believe someone new will come into my life. Someone who would fix those permanent marks of scars and tiny holes in my heart you left behind. Someone who has faith, hope, and love more than you do." Mikai muttered to the photo where she believes Nicholae's promise of true love exists. Those were the two hurtful lines where Mikai and Nicholae's love story bind by a werewolf's business proposal. Packed with broken hearts, betrayals, and revenge. What will you do when you believe true love exists in the right place but at the wrong time?

When I was struck by a stomach illness, my boyfriend, Charles Fischer, was busy blowing out birthday candles with his assistant, Beverly Wagner. I lay there in excruciating pain, but he didn't even glance at me. Instead, he affectionately stroked her nose.  “Bev is a year older! Make a wish, birthday girl!” Later, after I had fainted and was rushed to the hospital, I called Charles, only for him to ignore me.  Meanwhile, Beverly posted a photo on Instagram. Gifts filled the screen, with the caption, [Yay! Charles is the best ever! Charles and Bev, together forever!] When I confronted him, Charles didn’t care at all. "It's Bev’s birthday. Were you expecting me not to spend it with her? If you can't handle it, we're done!" This was the umpteenth time he'd threatened to break up with me, always confident that I wouldn't dare to leave him.  Not this time.

On our seventh anniversary, an event planner called, already hyping up my wife, Talia. "Ms. Sweeney, we're putting a family photo of you four in the main hall. And some shots of your little princess. That okay? Also, can you confirm your son carrying his sister onstage?" I froze. There were only two people in our house—Talia and me. A family of four? Two kids? I called Talia, the hotel's general manager. She brushed it off. "Probably a client. Wrong number on a contract. I hand out cards all day." I stared at the balloons and flowers I'd set up in the private room—then swiped them all to the floor. Gone. I turned and called my sister, the Director of the Business Compliance Bureau. "Naomi, Talia's cheating. She's got two kids. Get me the best divorce lawyer. I want her out—and out of my hotel."

During a typhoon alert, Joyce Lane calls me and tells me to pick her up from her company. On the way there, I receive a text from her. "You don't have to pick me up anymore. I'm going to stay over at Fin's place for a few days." I opt not to start anything with her. Instead, I calmly text back, "Okay." In the middle of the night, Finley Jones, Joyce's junior at work, uploads a social media post that's meant for my eyes only. Joyce can be seen huddling against Finley while feeding him some snacks in the photo. The window outside depicts a storm. The caption writes, "It's only befitting for me to tide out the worst weather with the woman I love the most." I leave a like on the photo calmly. Suddenly, Joyce calls me and demands what that like means. I reply coolly, "It means we're breaking up."