Attack On Titan Meme Face Novels & Stories

It took me ten years to become the right hand to Damian Costello, the Consigliere of the Costello crime family. From a nobody to the woman wearing his engagement ring. But two weeks before the wedding, I decided to throw that ring away. Everyone in the family knew how hard I had fought all these years just to stand by Damian's side. I gave up the chance to become a top trader on Wall Street, willingly becoming Damian's assistant, his shadow. This man was infamous for his coldness and exacting nature, keeping everyone at arm's length. So I hid my sharp edges, spending a decade wearing down his icy exterior with gentleness. I cleansed the blood from every dollar he made. I became a necessity to him, as essential as the air he breathed. I thought that after ten years, I had finally made my presence indispensable. And finally earned what looked, to outsiders, like a glimmer of his affection. The family's notoriously aloof genius actually remembered my birthday. He even made an exception, letting me spend the night in his private study when I was unwell. He didn't even push me away when, emboldened by wine, I pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. If the Don's daughter, Isabella, hadn't returned from Italy, I might have kept playing my part, clinging to that false dream forever. But sadly, there are no ‘ifs’. I am going to give up everything here and leave you.

At 4:00 a.m., my husband, Rocco, gently shook me awake. His voice was a low murmur, . "Alessia, my love, could you do something for me?" But his next words shattered the illusion. "Scarlett is hungry. Go make her some seafood soup." Scarlett was our maid, and she was also Rocco's pregnant goomar. "I just had fresh seafood delivered. Get to the kitchen and make her a bowl of soup. Just for Falcone's heir." I refused, my voice cold. His anger flared in an instant. "Don't be so unreasonable, Alessia." "Is it really so hard for you to make some soup?" I shook my head, silent. He stroked my cheek, a patronizing smile playing on his lips. "Fine, Alessia. So you've learned to defy me now." "Think carefully, Alessia. Do you really want to keep your place as a Falcone?" "And your position as the family's lawyer? Think about whether you still want these… then give me your answer." Seeing the arrogance in Rocco's eyes, the last ember of love I had for this man died. I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "I want out of the Falcone family."

On the day of the wedding, Tiffany Blake publicly slipped a wedding ring onto her secretary's finger. "I'm pregnant. The baby is Chad's. Once the child is old enough, I'll marry you." Guests whispered among themselves, convinced that I—the one who had chased after her for a year—would just swallow my pride and take it. But that very night, I accepted the marriage arranged by my family and vanished from her world without a trace. A year later, I attended a charity gala with my wife, Nicole Cooper. She had a last-minute conflict and sent someone from her regional office to pick me up. I never expected it to be Tiffany, whom I hadn't seen in a year. "You're back just in time. My maternity leave is almost up. From now on, you'll be the one taking care of the child."

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, I saw my mate, Alpha Viggo, bringing another she-wolf to her prenatal check-up. I froze on the spot, the pregnancy report crumpling in my fist. That night, he looked at me with ice in his eyes. The same man who once kissed every inch of my body. The same man who swore he was mine and mine alone. “She’s carrying my pup. Her wolf is unstable. You will brew her calming tonics. Every single day.” “She's sensitive. She can't sleep without my scent. So move your things to the west wing. Make room for her.” The huge villa fell deathly silent. My wolf howled—a sharp, wounded cry. Pain from our mate bond ripped through my soul. But I didn't shed a single tear. I just calmly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed and walked toward the door. The guards tried to stop me, but Viggo didn’t even glance up. “She’ll be back,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, his Alpha arrogance on full display. “Three days. That’s all she’ll last. Her wolf will drive her mad without my touch. She’ll come crawling back, begging.” The pack members and allies who had come for our ceremony erupted in laughter. A few of them even made a bet right in front of me, wagering a million-dollar aurora ore mine. They bet I’d be torn apart by the fear of going rogue and be on my knees by midnight, begging Viggo to let me back in. But they had no idea. My birth father had already secretly sent our family token. My pack was already waiting. This time, I would shatter our bond for good.

On the Goldman heir's wedding day, I take a small bite out of a piece of cake because I am hungry from waiting too long at the ceremony. But my fiancee, Sheryl Wilson, slaps me in the face immediately. "You really are shameless! How could you eat in an occasion like this?" Dazed from the slap, I look at the other guests, who are staring at us at the moment. Having tasted copper in my mouth, I turn on my heel and approach the heir with a plate in my hands. "The cake's pretty delicious. Do you want a slice?" Sheryl started to panic. She's about to drag me away when the groom of the wedding takes a small bite out of the same slice. He remarks coolly, "It really is tasty. I'll have my men prepare 100 slices of cake for the woman who slapped you just now."

He ruined Her Life, the man she gave everything to, even her kidney. But she is back with a new face and a new identity, seeking to exact a pound of flesh and reclaim her child. Three years ago, everybody thought Alicia was dead, including her ex-husband, Lucas, and sister, Becky, who betrayed her. What they didn't know was that a top sailor rescued her, and her face that was once scarred beyond recognition was rebuilt through advanced facial reconstruction. Now, she has the face of a goddess, and a top business tycoon who commands power, not the regular naive girl that Lucas discarded. What happens when her ex-husband, Lucas, unknowingly falls for the woman he once destroyed? What happens when the betrayer becomes the beggar? Because this time, she’s not his savior. She’s his Karma.

He was everything they warned her to stay away from. He was the kind of man she would never have wanted to associate with. But how and why did she fall for him, even when he degraded her? He made it known to her that she was a nobody to him, yet she couldn't leave him. Astrid Peyton becomes the fiancée of a young billionaire, Darius Titan, who is rumoured to be a heartless dominant. She is determined to prove the world, especially her mother, that they are wrong about him. Nikoleta Titan, Darius's mother, is diagnosed with cancer. She is excited to find out that her son is engaged to someone, as she feels like he only uses people to get what he wants. This brings her and Astrid very close. But what happens when Astrid finds out that Darius is everything they say he is? What if he's worse? Did she really not grow on him, like she usually did other people? Will she stay with him, even after everything he has put her through?

My grandfather, the company’s chairman, had an unmistakable obsession with pink. Not only had he decorated his entire house in soft rosy hues, but he even had his newly purchased Rimac Nevera repainted in blush pink. I was home for the summer. On the day he got his new car, he excitedly asked me to drive him to work. We had just entered the underground parking garage when a black Rolls-Royce suddenly blared its horn and sped up to cut in front of me. It then slammed on the brakes without warning. Unable to react in time, I crashed straight into it. The driver lowered his window and cursed at me. His face was twisted with arrogance. “Are you blind? Vixen, can’t you drive?” Swallowing my anger, I retorted, “You were the one who deliberately cut me off. How can you twist this around and blame me?” He let out a mocking snort. “You women in pink cars are hopeless drivers, yet you still blame others? You had it coming. You must be a new intern. Let me tell you something. You’ve just hit the chairman’s car. Get ready to go bankrupt!” My grandfather and I exchanged a baffled look. If that was the chairman’s car, what were we in?

Back when we were still in love, I heard from someone else that Charlie Grant had been getting unusually close to his secretary. He never offered an explanation. He let me dig for the truth on my own. Over the past five years, I quietly collected countless photos of them together—having lunch, leaving late-night meetings, even traveling for business—but none of them offered conclusive proof of cheating. Until the day he proposed to me. There was a giant screen set up. It was supposed to play a romantic video Charlie had prepared just for the proposal, but the screen suddenly cut to something else. A video of Charlie at a hospital, standing beside his secretary as she underwent a pregnancy check-up. In the video, the doctor clearly referred to Charlie as her husband… and the father of her child. His secretary burst into tears on the spot and apologized to me repeatedly. She sobbed as though she were the victim. Charlie, however, stood there with a cold expression and said flatly, "She's an unwed mother. She was helpless. I was just accompanying her for the checkup. The doctor must've misunderstood." Everyone braced for a dramatic scene. However, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I only reached up and slowly removed the delicate flower hairpiece from my head. I set the hairpiece down. Then I looked Charlie in the eyes and spoke calmly. "You're right. It is sad that she’s pregnant and all alone. "This marriage proposal was meant for her. Not me." I gave a faint smile. "May you enjoy a blissful life. And… congratulations on the baby."

During a battle with a rival pack, my Alpha mate, Damien, burst into my private healing sanctuary. He was carrying Lyra, a Beta warrior who had supposedly taken a poisoned blade for him. The next day, under the watchful eye of the Moon Goddess, Damien was forced by the pack elders to apologize. He explained that bringing an outsider into my sanctuary was a desperate act in a moment of crisis. After all, Lyra had saved his life. But that night, in the bed we once shared, Lyra stabbed herself with a dagger laced with wolfsbane and framed me for the attack. He chose to believe her. The rejection ceremony ripped my wolf from my soul. I was cast out—a powerless exile, left for dead in a storm, to be torn to shreds by rogues. But what Damien never knew was that the ancient curse afflicting him could only be healed by me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning: the moment Damien carried that woman in, demanding I save her.