Ancient Language 7 Little Words

"Are you not kidding?" Travis asked, his deep voice laced with disbelief. "You want to get married... today?" Alice's eyes sparkled with mischief as she nodded enthusiastically. But little did Travis know, Alice's intentions were far from innocent. She had been reborn, given a second chance at life after a brutal murder at the hands of her stepsister, Octavia, and her former lover, Grant. With her memories intact, Alice was determined to exact revenge on those who had wronged her. And Travis, the brooding and handsome millionaire, was just the pawn she needed in her game of revenge. As Alice and Travis navigate their whirlwind engagement, secrets and lies begin to unravel. Octavia and Grant are still lurking in the shadows, waiting for their next victim. But Alice is no longer the naive and timid girl she once was. She's been reborn, and she's ready to take back control. Will Alice's thirst for revenge consume her, or will she find love and redemption in the arms of Travis? Dive into this twisted tale of love, lies, and revenge to find out.

Gisella Anastasia — gadis cantik nan manis berusia dua puluh tahun itu harus menelan rasa kecewa yang di torehkan oleh sang tunangan. Pria yang seharusnya minggu depan menikah dengannya, malah bermain serong dengan wanita dari masa lalu. . . "Meskipun tidak jadi menikah denganmu, tapi aku pastikan Minggu depan aku akan tetap menikah, walaupun harus menikah dengan pria lain!" . . Siapa menyangka, kalau hal itu membuat Gisella nekat mengajak seorang pria matang berwajah tampan untuk menikah? "Menikah denganmu? Boleh. Tapi jika sudah menikah denganku, tidak ada perceraian di kemudian hari. Kamu sanggup? tanya pria matang dengan wajah rupawan itu. Sukses kah Gisella membalas dendam pada sang mantan Tunangan? Lalu bagaimana respon Gisella setelah mengetahui kalau Suaminya ternyata tidaklah sesederhana yang terlihat? . . ikuti kisah "Terjebak Cinta Om Presdir" eksklusif hanya di Good Novel. TTD : Little Rubah

On the night of my wedding, my best friend's younger brother wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked me, “It’s a little big. Can you handle it?” I stared at his perfectly defined abs, my mind going completely blank. “What?” He repeated, “Can you handle it?” My voice jumped an octave from my panic. “Aren't we supposed to take things slow? Isn’t this way too fast?” That night, the sound-activated lights in the house flickered on and off until dawn. Meanwhile, my ex-husband was squatting downstairs. His eyes were swollen red from crying, but I did not even spare him a thought. Back then, when I agreed to let him proceed with a fake wedding with his childhood sweetheart, Miles Carter thought our cold war was over. When he explained things to me, he said, “Vivian and I will only be married on paper. The ceremony is just to satisfy my mom. I swear, when this is over, we’ll live as a real couple.” I remained silent. I just stared at the countdown on my phone, counting the days until I could finally leave. He did not know that the moment he tricked me into signing the divorce papers, our marriage had already ceased to exist.

Up and Down. "We're different." Right and Left. "Go, run and hide." Love and Hate. "This is unfair." Kill and Spare. "I cannot do it anymore." Totally opposite, is there a chance to make it together?

It is a story about how a wife leaves her husband and daughter only because she loves them. Miranda and Eric. Circumstances tore them apart. Now after 7 years fate brings them together and to forget the little angel that they created when they were together.

My husband, Steve Malone, thinks of himself as a highly-educated person. Not only that, but he's also very uninterested in physical intimacy. When we go to bed every night, we have to sleep with a bowl of water between us. In fact, Steve refuses to let me touch him at all. But on the day he returns from the volunteer teaching program in the countryside, I discover a pair of pantyhose all tangled up in his clothes. Upon hearing my question, Steve maintains his cool facade as he explains, "This is contraband that I've confiscated from a student." I never respond to Steve. Instead, I get in contact with the female teacher, Rebecca Cramer, who has gone teaching with Steve earlier. From the other end of the line, Rebecca's sarcastic voice drifts over. "Your husband sure is unstoppable, Audrey. He couldn't resist kneeling in the pig sty while licking the dead skin off that Paige widow's feet. No one could stop him at all. "I heard that Paige even intends to give birth to a child for him. They went at it once per day, you know. I think you should head over here and witness everything for yourself." As soon as I end the call, I contact my lawyer right away and prepare to file for a divorce. This time, I'm hell-bent on ending things with Steve.

As Don Julian Vitale's woman, I've accompanied him every step of the way, from the streets all the way to the peak. It all starts because I don't like the way Julian's god-sister, Milena Santoro, uses so much force in dressing my wounds that I've dismissed her in favor of other people. The next day, my explicit photos are plastered all over the underground casino's chips. I clutch my abdomen, which still sports the stab wound I've blocked for Julian. As I search for him, I end up overhearing his subordinates' lewd laughter outside a private room. "Winona sure is hot, Don Vitale! Now that her body's printed all over the chips, our luck has tremendously increased as well!" "That's not it! Previously, Don Vitale rewarded me by letting me grope Winona's chest! Because of that, I was able to seal a business deal that's worth tens of millions of dollars!" "Then again, Don Vitale, won't Winona get into a fight with you for spreading her explicit photos like this?" Julian puffs out some smoke while toying with a casino chip with my crotch printed on it. "She's just a plaything whom Lady Luck favors. Without my protection, she's even lower than a mutt. Besides, she's nothing compared to Milena, and yet she has the gall to complain about how much force Milena uses in dressing her wounds?" As the crotch-imprinted chip is flung onto the table carelessly, I feel my heart dying once and for all.

I've been married to Salvatore Falcone for seven years. He's a mafia Don who drills raw terror into everyone's minds. While I'm the Donna whom he has announced to the world, in truth, I'm just a mistress who serves as his human shield that can warm his bed on the side. Salvatore has betrayed me countless times over the past seven years. The first betrayal occurred when he took my ring off on our first wedding anniversary and gave it to one of the escorts in the clubhouse on a whim. The second betrayal occurred when I collapsed in the kitchen out of exhaustion. Instead of saving me, Salvatore blamed me for not preparing the hangover tonic for him in time, so he had someone dump iced water onto me to wake me up. The third betrayal occurred when I suffered from massive bleeding when I was five months pregnant. When I begged Salvatore to go to the hospital with me, he told me that he was keeping Valentina Caruso, his childhood sweetheart, company while her cat was getting fixed. For 2500 days, I swallowed all of my grievances, agony, and tears. Last night, at the banquet of our seventh wedding anniversary, Salvatore had taken Valentina's hand and sat her down on the Donna's throne that was meant to be mine. At that moment, everyone looked forward to seeing me humiliate myself. This was the 101st time he betrayed me. After the banquet was over, Salvatore didn't even bother looking me in the eye. He just said icily, "Don't forget that you're only a mistress to me despite our marriage." At the crack of dawn, Salvatore wakes up with a hangover. He tosses his soiled shirt at me out of habit. "Wash this shirt immediately. I'm going to wear it tonight." As I gaze at him, I caress my belly, which is slightly swollen. "Sorry, Mr. Falcone. This is no longer my duty." Salvatore most likely has forgotten that we've signed a contract when we first got married. The clause states that we will get divorced seven years later. Today is the third day before our contract comes to an end. I toss the marriage certificate and the pregnancy report into the shredder on the spot. In three days, my unborn baby and I will disappear from Salvatore's world permanently. This time, I will never look back.

"Your Highness." "Lady Eiren." Di bawah langit malam yang kelam, tanpa sedikit pun memunculkan cahayanya sang bintang apalagi cahaya sang rembulan. Di tengah-tengah taman yang banyak ditanami bunga eglantine yang merumpun, … juga di antara hujan taburan kelopak bunga pohon plum yang jatuh meluruh. Beserta di sekitar beterbangannya bola-bola cahaya api, dilengkapi dengan kepakkan sayap kecil ratusan kupu-kupu merah muda. Mereka berdua, sepasang anak muda berlawanan jenis, yang masing-masing darinya sedang mencium harumnya setangkai bunga keramat pun, … saling berhadapan satu sama lain, dengan ekspresi muka yang tampak begitu serius. "Daripada Tunangan saya, …." "Daripada Tunanganku, …." Berbicara bersamaan sekaligus bergerak secara bersamaan pula, mereka … lekas melanjutkan ucapan yang sempat terjeda dengan menggunakan suara yang lantang, seraya mengasongkan tangkai bunga yang tengah dipegang sendiri untuk cepat-cepat diberikan kepada sang lawan bicara. "… Saya akan memilih Anda!" Sang pemberi bunga yang melambangkan cinta mati, yaitu bunga mawar hitam, … Lady dari kediaman Marquess Eiren, Darissa. "… Aku akan memilihmu!" Juga sang pemberi bunga yang melambangkan banyak kebebasan, yaitu bunga bakung laba-laba merah, … pangeran kedua kerajaan Aethelred, Lancient. "MARI/AYO KITA MENIKAH!" Sudah memutuskan untuk bekerja sama di kesempatan kedua ini, … dalam membalaskan dendam mereka.

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.