2pac Autopsy Photo

I hid behind the study curtains, heart racing with a fragile, trembling joy. In my hands: an ultrasound photo—two heartbeats—and a no-limit black card. Alessandro had given it to me last night, his lips on my neck, calling me his Donna, his queen. Tonight, I was going to tell him about the twins. "The Petrov family needs to see my good faith," his voice drifted in, smooth as velvet. "Vittoria arrives Thursday. I’ll announce the engagement then." My blood froze. "What about Elena?" someone asked. "She’s been with you three years. She manages the books, dug that slug out of your side herself. Is this fair to her?" "Elena?" He leaned back in the leather chair, cigar smoke curling around his jaw. "She’s like a trained hound, Salvatore. After the Rossi family got wiped out, I pulled her from the gutter, gave her a gun and a bed. Have you ever seen a hound leave its master? I could kick her, and she would lick my boot and ask for another." My nails sank into my palms, crumpling the ultrasound. "Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?" Marco, his Capo, asked. Alessandro paused. Then he said: "She would die for me without question. How could she ever leave?" Those words struck my chest like two 9mm rounds. I didn't wait. I ran through the cemetery, past the tombs of dead Dons, and hurled that card into the Hudson. I vanished into the night with his heirs in my womb and three years of lies in my throat. "I'm sorry, my babies," I whispered to my belly. "Mommy was a fool." But I wouldn't be a fool anymore.

I saved the man who destroyed my family. Dr. Emma Lawson has spent five years hating billionaire Damien Cross. His corporate takeover crushed her father's company, shattered her parents' marriage, and forced her to work three jobs just to survive medical school. Then he crashes onto her operating table. Bleeding out. Dying. One slip of the scalpel. No one would question it. But Emma took an oath. Even monsters deserve to live. When Damien wakes with amnesia, his assistant offers Emma $200,000 to pretend she's his girlfriend. Just three days. One merger vote. Then she walks away. Emma agrees. Not for the money. For revenge. What she doesn't expect: Damien without his memories is nothing like the ruthless CEO she imagined. He's vulnerable. Protective. Looking at her like she's his entire world. What she doesn't know: Damien has been watching her for five years. The photo in his wallet. The surveillance files. The reason he destroyed her father's company. It was never about business. It was about protecting the woman he couldn't stop thinking about from a conspiracy that would have killed her entire family. As fake feelings become dangerously real, Emma discovers the truth: their families weren't destroyed by corporate greed. They were caught in a pharmaceutical conspiracy involving illegal human trials, billions in black market research, and a man who will do anything to perfect a drug that was never meant to cure. Some debts are paid in money. Some are paid in blood. But the debt between Emma and Damien? That one can only be paid in truth. She saved his life. He's been saving hers for five years. Now they have three days to save each other.

Kimberly Wilson had been married to Steven Smith for two years. When Steven proposed a divorce, she agreed without hesitation. Holding a huge fortune, she began to wealth freely. The Wilson family had only one child, so who would be family continuity? Simple, she said, 'Help me post a message offering a high reward for pregnancy.' It read, "Due to my husband's car accident rendering him infertile, seeking a healthy male for surrogacy. Generous compensation." As for the requirements, 'Must be handsome, have an excellent physique, graduated from an Ivy League school, and be good in bed. Price is negotiable.' Her highly efficient personal assistant, whom she had hired at great expense, sent over photos of applicants the next day. One ultimately met her criteria and even exceeded her expectations. The side profile in the photo, noble and aloof, looked familiar. She immediately decided, 'Okay, It's him.' 'He's available anytime, but he has one prerequisite.' her assistant informed. Kimberly raised an eyebrow, 'What requirement?' 'He's a bit shy, so the lights must be off.' Only later did she realize what trouble she had gotten into. The man was not only the sole heir to the multi-billion luxury goods group-Garcia group but also the best friend of her ex-husband. Steven didn't wait for Kimberly to reconcile as usual but instead heard the news of her new romance. Despairing, he said, 'I can live without her. Don't try to persuade me.' But later, drunk, he called in the middle of the night. 'Kiki...' His voice was choked up. A cold male voice responded from the other end, 'May I ask why you're calling my wife in the middle of the night?' '......'

All Seraph Hampton wanted was to dream beyond the orphanage walls. That dream finally becomes reality when she’s picked as the only intern among nine full-time workers. At first, she’s unhappy,until she discovers the company belongs to none other than Luca Zhao. Tech billionaire. National hotcake. And the man she’s secretly crushed on for years. But everything changes when Seraph is accidentally sent to the 60th floor… and walks in on a freshly-showered Luca, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her impulsive fangirl instincts take over,she hugs him. Luca’s classy, bossy, and sharp-tongued assistant, Miss Harper, walks in and nearly fires her. But Luca redeems Seraph on the spot, promoting her from intern to personal assistant,sending Miss Harper into silent flames. Working beside Luca should’ve been a dream. Instead, it becomes a twisted game of secrets. A hidden photo album reveals the unthinkable: her late mother once married Fernandez—Luca’s father. Which makes him her stepbrother. And that’s only the beginning… The storm hits when a feared and powerful figure known only as The Don of Dawn arrives Seraph’s real father, who abandoned them. Just as Seraph tries to process this, Miss Harper,Luca’s manipulative assistant— calls this same man Dad. Secret half-sisters. Forbidden attraction. A forced engagement bound by legacy and blood. Now Seraph is caught between dangerous love and truths. As she hacks phones, sneaks through private doors, and digs into elite secrets, she’s torn between revenge… and the one man who might be innocent in it all—Luca Zhao. As kisses and intimate moments turn into confessions, and loyalty is tested on every side, one thing is clear: This isn’t just an internship. It’s a battlefield. And Seraph Hampton is the unknown weapon.

On Valentine’s Day, I went skiing for fun. I never expected my younger sister, Fiona White, to get into an argument with our parents and run away. She came to find me. The hotel receptionist made her register as a guest despite sharing my room. I said, “She’s my sister. She ran away from home after an argument and did not bring her driver's license. She’s only staying one night. I’ll send her home tomorrow.” However, he looked at us menacingly. He gave Fiona a lewd wink and acted like he knew what was really going on. “Sure.” He smiled. “It’s Valentine’s Day, so I get it. No need to be shy.” Seeing how tired Fiona was, I took her upstairs without making a fuss. However, I found a post online later that night. [Some men are really so brazen. He brought a prostitute to the hotel and denied it when I called him out. He insisted that she’s his little sister. Does he think I can’t tell?] Some netizens questioned him and told him that maybe he was wrong in his assumption. [I’ve been in this field for more than a decade. I know what I saw! He didn’t dare to register her. That means he was afraid his wife might find out about his actions! I’ll go to their room and record just how loudly that woman moans. I’ll livestream it!] I was stunned. I thought it was just a coincidence. I clicked on the photo the receptionist had sneakily taken and froze. That was me! Did he think Fiona, who was lying on the couch, was a prostitute? But she was really my little sister!

Millicent Andrews never expected her life to collapse right before her twenty-first birthday. One moment she’s a wife, a best friend, a girl with a future… and the next, she’s staring at her husband Brian Vel in bed and tangled in her best friend’s arms, the betrayal slices her open in ways she can’t begin to stitch shut. The divorce is brutal and the humiliation is even worse. With nowhere else to go, Milli returns to her mom’s house with her sick son. She reopens her small, struggling photo studio, just in time to learn the entire building has already been bought by Damon Hale, a forty-seven-year-old billionaire with a reputation colder than the steel hotels he builds. Damon wants the land, but Milli refuses to give up the last piece of her life that hasn’t been stolen from her. Their fight become heated, and combustible, until he makes her an offer she should never accept: marry him for one year to soothe his mother, live under his roof, follow his every rule…and in return, he’ll save the studio, every shop on the block and her sick son gets the best treatment possible, but she does. They hate each other and they’re nothing alike. The contract is supposed to keep their worlds separated, but forced proximity has sharp fangs. Meanwhile, Brian returns, desperate and regretful, determined to pull Millicent back into his life. While she tries to outrun her past, she discovers a painful truth about her own bloodline that changes everything she thought she knew, all while discovering Damon's darkest secret. What happens to their paper tie, when he discovers she knows the truth who he really is?

My new husband always acted like a child. Before our son turned two, he would grab the boy’s food bowls every single day and refuse to let go. When our son turned four, he had developed an obsession with planting seeds and watering the little garden in our backyard. When our son turned five, I ran into my Christian ex-boyfriend after six years apart at a business event. He looked the same as before and narrowed his eyes at me with cold disdain. “Didn’t we agree never to see each other again after the breakup? “How are you still this pathetic after six years? You chased me all the way here?” In an instant, everyone turned to watch and whispered among themselves, wondering whether I would shamelessly beg him to get back together with me. After all, back then, I had used every trick I had just to win over William. It was how I had managed to get hold of a man who seemed aloof and almost otherworldly. No one knew that every time William slept with me, he would go to church and repent in secret before a photo of his foster sister. He even kicked me out of the Wells family for her sake. He forced me to donate over a quart of blood to his foster sister when I was hospitalized after a miscarriage. From that moment on, my heart was numb. I returned to my hometown and married my devoted husband. I never expected that six years later, I would see him again. William watched me in silence, then pulled an old diamond ring from his pocket and tossed it at my feet. “Pick it up, and put it on. I’ll marry you.”

"I moaned, bringing my thighs wide, further. "Do you like it, Sienna?" I nodded like an idiot, forgetting the fact that he was my stepbrother. "I do like it, Soren." My breath caught in my chest as I felt warm juice spill through my punani, "I love it, Soren. Everything you do to me." ***** The confused, pleasure-hungry nerd who fell for her stepbrothers? That was me, Sienna Cruz. At first, I thought I'd be able to conquer the urge of wanting my stepbrothers but no, I fell more deeper—lost in the ocean of depravity and Sin. Simon is the calm one, we were close. He was soft hearted and I liked him. Whenever we talked, I would find myself staring at his bulge. His morning erection was damn beautiful. He would ask, "Sienna, are you okay?" I would nod, lying I was but deep down what I craved was every inch of him. All that wanted to break from my lips was "Bury your cock deep in my pussy. Break every wall of restriction." And Soren? He was the demon amongst the twin brothers. I thought I hated him until I found myself staring way too much at the photo mom forced us to take during summer. His Ocean Blue eyes pulled me in. The arrogant smirk on his face spelt more than it looked. He was way too charming. Who did I like more? Simon or Soren? I swear I do not know. Soren was a demon, yet I find myself crawling back to his bed and when Simon flashed that cute smile at me? It made me helpless. Soren's charm was more gripping. I fantasized a lot about his rod and all I wanted was for him to ruin me in the worst way ever.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

It was just another morning commute—until he happened. Across the train aisle sat a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a high-end magazine and straight into a power struggle. His voice sliced through the air, sharp and commanding, as he chewed someone out over the phone like he ran the damn universe. Arrogant. Entitled. Dressed like a Wall Street god. Correction: he looked like a god. That’s where the charm ended—or so I thought. When the train screeched to a stop, he stood up in a hurry, stormed off… and left his phone behind. Did I pick it up? Yep. Did I snoop? Absolutely. Photos, contacts, a few mysterious texts—I couldn’t help myself. Did I keep it longer than I should’ve, building stories in my head about the man behind the voice? Yeah… I did that too. When I finally gathered enough nerve to return it, I marched into the glass-and-steel fortress he called an office. He wouldn’t even come out to meet me. So I dropped his phone on the desk outside his office door. And maybe—I left a photo on it first. Not exactly the professional kind. What I didn’t expect? A message. From him. What followed were late-night texts that burned hotter than anything I’d ever known. Words became whispers. Whispers turned into fantasies. I was falling—for someone I hadn’t even really met. He and I? Total opposites. Fire and ice. Chaos and control. But when we finally came face to face, it wasn’t just sparks. It was an inferno. What happened next? Let’s just say… falling for him was the easy part. Surviving what came after? That’s where the real story began.