A Year Ago Terjemahan

This book contains hot mature explicit scenes. Read at your own risk! . Twenty-five years old and the only provider for her struggling, poor-class family. Angela had no other choice. Saying “yes” to Antonio, was the only way to save her two little nieces. Antonio Montero. An untouchable name! An insatiable monster! The dangerously handsome idol, young billionaire, and media’s obsession—crowned the sexiest man of his generation. A toxic playboy with a trail of scandals, rumors, and broken hearts. Poor Angela. She just signed a deal with the devil. Her world is about to spiral into chaos. And she has no idea the wicked, sleepless nights this monster has planned for her. This wasn’t just a contract. It was a cage. And the monster holding the key? He didn’t plan to let her go.

In my previous life, my brother and fiancé teamed up to sabotage my company for the sake of my so-called best friend. After I went bankrupt, they stood beside her watching me collapse in the pouring rain, laughing mockingly at my pathetic state. "Linda Turner, you look as pathetic as a drenched dog!" they sneered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the project bidding meeting three years earlier. In my previous life, when my company was just starting out, my brother and fiancé had warned me against using the Turner and Peterson family connections. They claimed it wouldn't be fair to others, but then turned around and handed projects to my best friend under various pretexts, just to see her smile. Now that I was back, I watched them secretly manipulating things just like before, giving my projects to my best friend. I finally gave up on them completely. When they found out I was leaving the country, my brother and fiancé set off fireworks all night, celebrating that they'd finally gotten rid of me, the burden. But three years later, at the Trada Corp's bidding meeting, I took the stage as the CEO's wife—and they couldn't hide the redness in their eyes.

Ernest West left the courtroom with wings on his feet. Leaving Don James was, in Ernest's opinion, the best thing he had ever done for himself. No more tense silences. No more Don's silent, smothering adoration. Ernest had been released. Three years have passed since then. Now, what once was the best choice has turned into a noose around their necks. There is a sinister provision buried within the small print of the divorce papers that Ernest's attorney overlooked; they are obligated to live together and manage the small beach hotel that they used to own as a couple for an entire year. Thus, Ernest finds himself back amid the groaning wooden boards and salty panes of glass within the walls of where their love once withered away. However, Don is no longer the same weak and longing man that Ernest abandoned. He now stands as an intimidating pillar of cold indifference, forged by the stony resolve and lack of concern. Not even a passing glance comes from Don’s green eyes, which regard Ernest with only polite reserve. A year of closeness. A year of unresolved tension. A year of dealing with each and every lie that Ernest tried to bury beneath "irreconcilable differences." In the beginning, the plan is a silent battle—appointments stuck to the fridge, dinners taken in different corners of the house. Yet, there’s something about closeness that reveals the whole truth. Ernest discovers the picture albums that Don never discarded. He listens to telephone conversations in the dead of night that reveal the loneliness he feels himself. And gradually, painfully, he discovers that the greatest error made wasn’t the separation. It was letting Don leave.

The night before the entrance exams, my childhood best friend, Tyson Sutherland, receives a text message from his girlfriend, Isabelle Landon, saying she was attempting suicide by jumping off a building. He immediately gets anxious and brings along a few male classmates with him to go and save her. In my past life, I learned that it was fake, and that Isabelle never planned to kill herself. That was why I was against them going to save her. I called up my teacher, Mr. Fred Nielson, and asked him to inform the boys' parents, successfully stopping them from going. … The next day, everyone sat for their entrance exams as usual, and we all got accepted into Rayward University, one of the most prestigious universities in the country. Meanwhile, Isabelle survived the jump somehow, but she became a cripple. As revenge, Tyson hacked off my arms and legs and buried me alive. "It's all your fault! You were the one who turned Belle into a cripple! I'm going to kill you!" All my classmates did nothing as they watched him kill me under their watchful eyes. They all told me that I deserved to be killed. … When I open my eyes again, I realize that I have returned to the night when Tyson tells me he wants to save Isabella. I don't stop him or the others from going anymore. Instead, I sit for the entrance exams alone. I refuse to interfere in other people's fates again.

When Selena Sloane takes her assistant, Preston Jones, to the hospital in order to get his lower back checked out, her 18-year-old self is in the middle of making out with me while having me pinned against the wall. "Darling, how is it that you smell so good and your kisses are still this amazing despite being 30 years old? Oh, I love you so much, darling! "By the way, where did my 30-year-old self go? Why isn't she here to pick you up after work?" I push Young Selena off me sadly. That's when I happen to meet the 30-year-old Selena's icy gaze. "You already have a mistress of your own, and yet you still can't bear to get a divorce from me, hmm? Zack Holt, you really are pathetic." As I watch the older Selena supporting Preston and walking away, the younger Selena starts kicking up a fuss in my arms once again. "That idiot! How dare she speak to my darling so arrogantly? Why, I might as well kill myself right now so that she'll disappear from this world as well!"

At the New Year's party, my pineapple juice is swapped for beer. To make things worse, I've just taken cephalexin, which shouldn't be mixed with alcohol. After barely surviving the ordeal, I am shocked to see my husband, Harry Grant, defending Sally Lane, who was responsible for the mix-up. "Can we please just let it go? She didn't do it on purpose," Harry pleads. However, I'm not about to forgive Sally, especially given how sketchy her relationship with my husband has always been. But Harry cuts me off with a scowl, "Enough! She's just graduated and doesn't know any better. "What's the point of holding a grudge? Do you really want to ruin her life to feel better?" he asks, clearly trying to protect her. As I watch him stand by her, my heart sinks. "Fine then, go live with her."

There was an open secret among upper-class society. The wealthy man, Brandon Anderson, loved his wife to death. However, he was addicted to cheating on her. He would give everything those young women wanted from him, but he had one strict rule for them: not to expose anything to his wife. Everyone knew that he had loved his wife for ten years, and he had put in a lot of effort to marry her. He had once said that if his wife died, he would not survive. However, this latest mistress did not follow his instruction. She came to me because he doted on her. She sent me a lot of photos of condoms and his sleeping face. “Ms. Lowe, this brand is too good. I was screaming the whole night. Has Mr. Anderson ever used that with you?” It was that moment that I realized the young man who was infatuated with me had given his heart to me, but his body to other people. When I saw the photos, I cried so hard that I had no more tears. Then, I drafted a divorce agreement and signed it. I turned around and saw Brandon, seventeen again, crying as he stared at me.

It was all about a year. Just one simple year. They got married because of his Grandmother's wish. He didn't fall for her in that one year but she did. She didn't expect he would still hold on that contract after being married for a whole year but he did. He terminated the contract after a year and told her that it was over without any regret. He had gifted her divorce papers on their first wedding anniversary. He had expected her to throw a tantrum but too bad cause she didn't. Instead she just packed her bags and left just like he had asked her to. Then all of sudden one year later they met again. But she didn't change like those cliche heroines after divorce. She was the same as she was a year ago. Stupid, clumsy and stubborn. He didn't realise what he lost like those cliche ex husbands when he saw her for the first time after a year. But why did it sting watching her talking to some other men so casually? Why did it sting when she didn't look at him with those puppy lovesick eyes anymore? Why did it sting so much when she treated him like other ordinary people? It shouldn't have right? SLOW UPDATE AND UPDATE 3 DAYS PER WEEK. PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THIS AND DON'T COMPLAIN LATER:)

My boss, Patrick Hoffman, has made a bad investment that fails. When the board wants someone to be held accountable for the loss, he makes me the fall guy. Now that I've been fired from the company, I can no longer make my mortgage payments. My wife, Georgia Lowe, ends up falling seriously ill as well. In dire need of money, I ask Patrick for my severance pay. Sitting in his luxury car, he simply tosses me a few hundred dollars, saying, "You expect me to give you severance pay? I lost over a billion dollars because of you, Heath! How dare you ask me for money? "Here. Take these hundred-dollar bills and buy your wife a decent coffin!" My fists clench as I watch him drive off. Later that night, I drop a bombshell in a group chat filled with investors and business owners. "Seeking employment—bringing years of professional experience in cooking the books to the table. My former boss has nothing but praise for my abilities!"

On Christmas Eve, Gabriel Caldwell, my three-year boyfriend, invites me to go home with him for a nice feast and to spend the holidays together. But before I can even get a bite, I get drugged instead. "If I can't pay them any money at this rate, they'll chop my hand off, Evelyn! Seriously, I don't have any choices left but to deliver you to them! "Don't blame me for this, Evelyn. Blame yourself for having such rotten luck in life by looking just like the woman of Mr. Kensington's dreams. "By then, my debt is cleared, and you might live an extremely cushy life as a rich man's wife! Isn't this a win-win situation for us?" While I'm still groggy from the drugs' effects, I get delivered to an extremely familiar-looking estate by Gabriel's family. First things first, if I'm not mistaken, this must be my uncle, Sebastian Kensington's estate. Secondly, my uncle adores his older sister—my mom—so much to the point that he's never fallen for any other woman except her in this lifetime. And last but not least, all my dad did back then was roll his eyes at my mom once before Uncle Sebastian had him sent to a faraway continent. Well then, I wonder who's the one that'll be cursed with rotten luck after they deliver me to my uncle's hands? Gosh, it's so hard to guess!