Bone Rush Lucario

After winning 800 thousand dollars, the first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my daughter's surgery and treatment. Then, out of nowhere, a colleague called. "There's an extremely urgent situation at the company. You need to come back and handle it right now!" My husband took the bank card from my hand and, with thoughtful understanding, said, "Tell me the PIN. I'll go pay for Alicia's surgery. You head back to the company and focus on work." In my past life, I trusted him without hesitation and hurried back to the office. Before my daughter could even make it into surgery, I received a police summons instead. It turned out my husband had conspired with my colleague to file a report against me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds—money my colleague had actually stolen—on me. With no money for treatment, my daughter died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered heart attacks and passed away. I ended my own life in prison, consumed by bitterness and regret. After death, my soul drifted to where my husband was vacationing abroad. I heard him say to my colleague with my own ears, "That stupid woman wins such a huge jackpot and only knows how to waste it on that worthless daughter's medical bills, dragging me into a life of hardship! "Now their whole family's deaths have bought us endless wealth and luxury. Consider it that idiot woman's compensation to me. Hahaha!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very moment my husband took the bank card from my hand. This time, I still told him the transfer PIN.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

One of Ethan Sterling's closest friends got drunk and humiliated me. Called me a nobody orphan who married above her station, said I'd never be accepted by the Sterlings, that I wasn't fit to sit at their table. Ethan smashed a bottle over the man's head. He announced in front of everyone that if anyone ever disrespected me again, he'd make them pay. When I was pregnant and the morning sickness was so brutal I couldn't keep anything down, he went and scheduled a vasectomy. He didn't want me to suffer through another pregnancy. This was a man who loved me like I was his whole world. And yet — when I was lying on the operating table about to give birth, he was standing right in front of me with his arms around Iris, putting on a show for anyone watching. Iris was the daughter of another old-money family and she'd donated bone marrow to save Ethan's mother's life. The night before her own engagement, her fiance betrayed her, and the trauma wiped her memory clean. Now the only thing she knew for certain was that Ethan Sterling was her husband. In her world, I was the homewrecker — the scheming woman using the bastard in her belly to force her husband into a divorce. Ethan promised me it was all an act. Just repaying the debt for his mother's life. Once Iris recovered, he'd walk away from her immediately. But when I picked up the surgical consent form for him to sign, and his first instinct was to pull Iris behind him — to shield her — I knew. His heart had already drifted off course. The fairy tale of a Cinderella marrying into high society was over. Time to wake up.

The bread knife stuck in Jon doe’s chest had an unusual pattern, I grabbed a camera from the nearest person and clicked a few pictures of the design “Email them to me.” I said as I was handing the camera back to them. It looked ancient and rare, not the usual bread knifes you’d find at our local stores here in Seattle. I looked up to find a detective watching my every move, it seemed that his one side of the face looked sunken in, similarly you only see this in people who don’t have teeth, which prompted me to look into his mouth, to find that all of his teeth had been pulled out. I sighed loudly and said “well, here goes our identification route of checking dental records, this body was left in the hopes that no identification will be made!” Craning my neck to have a look at the coroner who had just arrived on scene, I recalled working with her once before on another case when I first started as a rookie, Dr Leslie Adams is an expert in her field and one of the most professional and efficient woman. She looked down at me, and stated “Detective Rush you do know that the body you are looking at has been dead for more than 3 days, and also looks as if it was stored in a body freezer before being planted at this scene” I shook my head and realised that this is getting more intense by the second, “I hadn’t realised so Doc, that’s the reason we have you here, to help me solve the mystery “- I said whilst walking up to her, I held out my hand and gave her hand a firm handshake.

During the ten years since I was found and brought to my biological family, Sonia Baxter, the girl who took my place, and I have been as close as real sisters. Even Mom says that Sonia cares more about me than a real sister would. I once swore I'd give my life to protect our special family of four. When Sonia is rushed into emergency surgery with a ruptured cerebral aneurysm, I am in my office, calmly practicing a basic suturing technique on a surgical simulator. On the screen, the robotic arm threads the needle with such precision that it looks like a work of art. A few minutes later, my boyfriend, Oliver Lyons, slams open the office door and shouts at me, "Amelia Baxter! Sonia's in critical condition. Only your micro-dissection skills can save her! Every expert in the hospital is waiting for you! We've got less than an hour before the window closes!" He looks at me with hopeful eyes. I'm the only person in the country capable of performing a surgery this complex. My hands are even known as the "Hands of God". However, I simply reply with a hum and continue fiddling with the model. Suddenly, my parents rush in. Mom grabs my arm and cries out, "Amelia! That's your sister in there! How could you just stand by and watch her die?" I gently pull away from her and hold my right hand out in front of them. This hand, which had once created countless medical miracles, is now trembling slightly. "Unfortunately, since yesterday, I've been showing symptoms of essential tremor. Dad, Mom… this hand is ruined."

I never thought I'd end up severely injured and lose my baby on my wedding day. That day, I walked toward my husband full of excitement, only to watch him rush right past me and straight into the arms of his secretary. Confused, I turned around and saw someone in a wedding dress lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. It was his secretary, Quinn Fable. Steve York, my soon-to-be husband, panicked and scooped her up, but Quinn stared at me with tearful eyes, crying, “Summer, I ate the candy you gave me… Why would you want to hurt my baby? Please, Steve, save our child… please…” Steve was beside himself with rage. Without a second thought, he kicked me hard in the stomach. I collapsed into the champagne tower, shards of glass embedding into my skin. Blood poured from between my legs. Yet, they still clung to each other, crying bitterly as if I didn't exist. When the ambulance arrived, they didn't even hesitate to push me aside to save her first. “Forget about her!” Steve shouted. “Save Quinn! She's lost so much blood. She must be in terrible pain! As for Summer, that vicious witch… she deserves to die!” Due to the delay, I suffered a ruptured uterus and missed the window for proper treatment. And as if that wasn't enough, Steve personally announced that our marriage was null and void. He marched straight to the clerk's office with Quinn and made it official. On my ICU bed, I received a text from him. “Pack your things and get out. Quinn wants you out of her sight.”

Betrayal, fear, and confusion clouded her thoughts as she faced the harsh reality of her existence. The daughter of the Shadow Weaver's ruthless leader, she had been molded into a weapon, a puppet dancing on her father's strings. Yet, beneath the facade of loyalty, her soul yearned for something more, something real. Trapped in enemy territory, she found an unexpected solace in the arms of Christian Darwin, the Royal Beta of the Red Moon pack. His eyes, like twin galaxies, held a promise of protection and understanding. "You need to trust me," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to her wounded spirit. "I will take away your pain. I will make them pay for what they've done to you. They'll regret every moment of it." His words hung in the air, laden with a fierce determination that resonated with Mia's shattered soul. As he opened his arms, a silent plea for her to find refuge in his embrace, she hesitated for a moment, her teary eyes searching his face for sincerity. In that fragile moment, she made a choice – to let go of the chains that bound her and to embrace the warmth of his presence. With a rush of raw, unfiltered emotion, she threw herself into his arms, seeking solace in the midst of chaos. What happens when secrets are revealed and she finds out that her life has been nothing but a series of lies? What happens when the truth unfolds and she finds out that the only person she was ever devoted to, was the one who betrayed her? She is yet to discover her true identity so join Mia on this rollercoaster journey where her mate will bring her wildest fantasies to life, where she has only one mission: Make The Culprit Pay.

Created for the Moon Goddess, the Snow Wolf Pack thrives in the icy Vottovaarra Mountains of Russia. Their snow-white coats make them invisible to all as they roam freely. They are the apex predators until the human race evolves. Each generation follows the previous, with a strong Alpha finding his equally strong Luna, all of them tracing their bloodline back to the Original Four Siblings. Until the Red Wolf appears, she's the Goddess's Blessing, her powers when joined to the Alphas provide the strength to defeat the humans when it is required but not all the Alphas know this legend. The Alpha that scorns the Goddess's gift and rejects the stunning red wolf is a dead Alpha, Werewolves serve the Moon Goddess you disobey her at your own peril. Alexis had grown to become the most powerful Lycan Snowwolf in their history, he rules his Pack with a firm but fair hand and they adore him. His stunning good looks ensure he is never short of female company to warm his bed and he is in no rush to find his fated mate. Aurora is the daughter of the Hunter Leader Prince Constantine, who leads the deadly Hunters against all Immortals, killing them without mercy, especially the Werewolves. His hatred of Werekind was well documented, he sent his men into their villages and murdered everyone including the females and their pups. When Alexis discovers his fated mate is the beautiful Aurora he is delighted and sets out to claim his mate. Their attraction is instant and explosive he cannot wait to claim her and mark her as his. Until she tells him who she is, the daughter of his hated enemy he pushes her away leaving her devastated. Will their love have a chance in a rapidly changing world?

Book One: Protecting My Mafia Princess "I promise you if Trinity gives me the slip, then I am pinning her to a tree." Just thinking of her sends shivers up my spine and belief me that they're not the good shivering kind. I love a beautiful woman in my bed and to look at. To be surrounded by ugly for almost a full day is seriously going to put a damper on my ego. But time to push that thought to the side, for our location has just come up on the right. We slowly cruise up the driveway… But as we step through the doorway… And we turn the corner… There is a tall brunette in what could possibly be the tightest dress I have ever seen. But what strikes me the most is her long slender legs that are held up by deep blood red stilettos. Her long locks of hair fall like waterfalls over her shoulders. Just looking at those plump lips is enough to send me raging. I don't know who she is... Colton Cruz is the best of the best, an ex-Marine, now bodyguard to the Mafia world’s elite. He is a man that lives for the rush and danger that his lifestyle brings. You might find yourself on his speed dial, but you will not be the one that will capture his heart. Trinity Stone is a spoilt brat that becomes Colton's next assignment. She's a pleasure on the eye but an absolute nightmare to be around. This lonely and misunderstood girl is the heir to the Stone Crime Family. And that's where the problem begins… Colton soon finds him desiring what he cannot have, the daughter of a Mafia Boss. How far will he go to get what he desires the most?

Seven years I spent with Jason Shaw, but I never got a ring. Rather, all I received was an invitation to another person's wedding. That day, as a wedding planner, I was at the rehearsal, making last-minute adjustments. Looking up, I saw the man whom I waited every day to reply to my messages, walking down the aisle, arm in arm with another bride. "Her boyfriend had something urgent come up, so I'm filling in for him," he said, standing straight, his tone light, a small smile on his lips. But his eyes couldn't hide the hurt, like a child who lost his favorite toy. As if that wasn't enough, he told me to hand over my wedding plan. He patted me on the shoulder, saying sincerely, "There's no rush for us. We've got plenty of time. I promise I'll give you an even better wedding. Just help me out this time. It's not like I'm not going to marry you." He didn't know that I had revised the wedding plan hundreds of times, even counted and recounted the bouquets seven times. To me, it wasn't mere work—it was a dream I held for five long years. I didn't argue anymore, just quietly stepped aside. Later, I lay alone in a hospital bed, listening to the rain tapping against the window from outside. I counted each drop as the hours slipped through my fingers. Perhaps those who worked so hard to create happiness for others had lost the right to their own happiness.