روايات وقصص ضمن And She Lifted Heavily Ever After

She was a kidnapped heiress, taken from her real family on purpose. He was a legendary tycoon, feared and admired across the business world. At a lavish party, she was set up by her adoptive mother—and unexpectedly became his cure. Months later, he received a mysterious package. Opening it, he was stunned to find... a mini version of himself. Furious, he roared: “Woman, you’d better pray I never find you!” Six years later, she returned, vowing to take revenge and reclaim her son. Armed with brilliance and unshakable resolve, she tore through scheming rivals, crushed manipulative socialites, and built her own empire along the way. But one day, the cold-blooded CEO cornered her against a wall: “We already have a child—give me the title of husband too.” She flashed a bewitching smile: “Sorry. The kid’s father? I’ve got someone else in mind.” Just then, three cheeky little munchkins popped out, grinning from ear to ear: “Daddy, give me a sister with Mommy, and she’s all yours!” In that moment, her mind went blank. Betrayed... by her own sons!

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

When my colleagues find out that I'm pretty good at cooking, they start organizing dinners at my place. Lucy Holt, one of the junior accountants, suggests that we split the groceries evenly between us. As a result, I don't think I can reject their request without being rude. On my last day of work, the group gathers at my place for one last meal. "You're such a good cook, Jess! We'll all be transferring you 500 dollars later. It's just a token of our appreciation," Lucy declares with a bright smile. But the very next day, she sends me a message. "Hey, Jess. You know it's illegal to operate an unlicensed catering business from your home, right? Your house will get sealed off for further investigation. More importantly, the value of goods has passed the threshold of 10,000 dollars, which means the fine you'll have to pay is probably going to be about 20 times that amount. "Since we worked together, we decided not to report you to the authorities. We'll just settle this matter privately. All you have to do is give us the fine you would've had to pay instead." This is how I realized that, combined with yesterday's meal, the total amount they've given me for groceries thus far is exactly 10,001 dollars.

Luna Freya finds out she was 5 weeks pregnant on the same day her Alpha Husband betrayed her by sleeping with another woman, whom he claimed was his fated mate. A fight between them led to a turn of events and she miscarried his pregnancy unknowingly to him. Months later, she woke up from a coma and was back in her father's pack where she had a filial duty to fulfill. Her marriage has been arranged with the estranged cursed Alpha Dominic who has a deep hidden resentment for her as she jilted him for another years ago. Filled with hatred for her ex-husband, Freya willingly accepted the arranged mating. However, After the mating ceremony, Dominic comes with a separate contract with several rules.

My wife's first love fell seriously ill. To save him, she gave away the kidney donor that was meant for me. Afraid I would cause a scene at the hospital, she locked me inside our home. Day after day, she stayed by his bedside, cooking for him, caring for him, never leaving his side. All she left for me was a box of stale biscuits… and expired milk. A month later, she finally opened the door. "Have you thought it through?" I looked at her, pale and desperate. "If I don't get that transplant, I'll die." "Why are you talking about dying?" she snapped. "You've endured this for so long already. A little more pain won't kill you. Are you trying to scare me?" "But Vincent is different. He's never been able to handle pain. Can't you be more understanding?" "Understand…" I nodded stiffly. Then, I walked out, without looking back. Only for her to be stabbed multiple times… yet still refuse to let go of my hand!

"Hubby, kiss me. I miss you so much. When are you coming home?" Out of nowhere, I received a text. The sender was the cold, untouchable CEO who was currently scolding us in a meeting, Veronica Starling. What shocked me even more was the timestamp on the message. It was sent five years in the future.

The moment I tasted blood in my mouth, I knew it wasn't mine. It was hers. Again. They said I was weak. An omega. A wife. A shadow. But I burned everything they gave me—and walked away. Now, years later, I am back. Not as his mate. Not as his Luna. But as someone stronger. Someone he can’t control. He looks at me with those green eyes like I’m still his. But he gave me away. To her. Sienna smiles like a queen. But behind those lips, I smell lies. And death. They want me close. They think I’ll break. But I didn’t rise from ashes to fall again. This time, I’m not running. I’m hunting. And they won’t see me coming.

"Ms. Stout, please read the requirements carefully. Once you submit your personal profile and sign up, all of your information will be sealed. You must then enter the research institute within 15 working days. Until the research results are made public, you will not be allowed to leave." The response from the National Academy of Sciences Research Institute came quickly, accompanied by a form. Shermaine Stout stared at the screen, but the mouse in her hand suddenly felt as heavy as lead. The door to her room suddenly swung open, and Shermaine blinked, quickly closing the laptop without a trace of emotion.

When I was three years old, during a car accident, I was struck in the head by a car while trying to protect Mom. After that, the doctors said something inside my head had broken, and I'd never be quite right. Everyone back home called me the slow one. Late at night, I'd see her crying alone. On my seventh birthday, Mom took me to Manhattan, and that was when I discovered that she had a second home and another daughter, Charlotte. In front of strangers, she wouldn't claim me. She only let me call her Miss Eleanor. On the third night, She sat down at her vanity. On the table was a small black box. I thought it was a present. She opened the box and took out a black silicone bracelet, with a little light embedded in the clasp—small, dark, switched off. "This is called a TruthBand. It's something a company in California makes. The light turns green when you tell the truth, and red when you lie. If you wear this, Mommy will always know." She fastened it around my wrist. Tight. The little light blinked green. I thought that if I was good enough, she would love me the way she loved my sister. But then she made me do ski practice with Charlotte. Charlotte was a junior champion. "You're both my daughters. I don't play favorites. Whoever falls, gets punished." Charlotte never fell. I couldn't even keep my skis straight. Every single run, I was the one Mama dragged off the mountain and locked in the cellar. On Thanksgiving Day, Mama spent the whole afternoon cooking. I wanted to help. I dropped a bowl. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were red. She grabbed a little pill bottle off the counter, tipped my chin up, and forced something between my teeth. "Dumb as a rat. Are you happy now? Did you finally embarrass me enough? " I lay on the kitchen floor, gasping. While she wasn't looking, I scraped up three little pink pellets that had spilled and tucked them into my fist. Mommy, I told myself, I'll be good now, and then you'll be happy. Right?