Broken Home Romane & Geschichten

Like CCTV footage. My heart began to race as I watched. The Conti mansion appeared on screen. My car was parked in front. Then a masked man walked toward it. He opened the door. Went inside. Came out moments later. My breathing turned shallow. A few minutes passed. Then I saw myself walking out of the mansion. My face pale. Broken. That was the day I left Matteo with my divorce papers. I remembered the tears. The humiliation. The baby in my stomach.

they didn't even tell me good bye. Some minutes after 4,I finally got home,this was the earliest I'd gotten home since I resumed from my maternity break,that sounded really weird. I got to the gate of our home and punched in the code for the gate,I drove in to the garage and safely parked the car in its place;I got down and went straight to the door of the mansion,I could ear screaming and crying from my kids. Panicking,I searched my suitcase frantically for my keys,what could be wrong with my girls......?

I ask in a cold voice with a straight face trying to hide the fear creeping up my throat threatening to choke me. "I thought I would come say hello to my mate and you really didn't make it easy to get in. Almost like you didn't want me to come in, but that would be ridiculous. I broke a window and climbed through. Those aren't reinforced. You really wanna be careful with that because someone could just break in whenever they want. Luckily this time it was just me." It almost sounds like he is genuinely concerned about it, yet I know better. He is fucking crazy.

'I'll make everything alright," he drew closer. Angela's gaze snapped at him. Her gaze bitter and unconvinced. "What will make you right, huh? They calling me a homewrecker. They believe I am the villain who came between you two. I forced you two apart so that I could have you. How you gonna right this?" she demanded venomously. Why do always women have to bear the brunt of broken marriage. Nick crouched to her level and held her hand.

3 Adriel Zion Dormer Ah. fuck. The pain was crazy. I was dampened in my own blood, my shirt was half chopped from the middle. Laying down on the medical bed felt odd. I barely ever made it to here. Probably after two years. There were four wounds on my abdomen, three opened and yet to be attended while one was getting stitched by my own sister, who happened to be one of the doctors of our pack, a kind soul who chose to torture me by not injecting a sedative.

Somewhere between my second cup of coffee and his third whiskey, the distance between us disappeared. After a while, I leaned back, sighing. “You ever think maybe we’re all just… broken people who met at the wrong time?” Tomas chuckled. “That’s the most poetic shit I’ve heard in weeks.” “I’m serious.” “So am I,” he said. “But maybe that’s what makes it work. Broken recognizes broken.” That line stuck in my chest. He wasn’t wrong. I smiled, small but genuine. “You know what? For someone who works for a mob family, you’re not half bad.”

I couldn't stop thinking about how Jack called me a slut and how Aubrey just completely left me for dead out there. It’s not like any of this was really even my fault. After what felt like hours of more crying, I finally managed to fall asleep. ~3 hours later~ The sound of something banging against my window catches me by surprise, having me immediately jolt awake as fear begins to engulf me. What the fuck was that? I grow still against my sheets as the sound repeats itself, this time sounding more like a sequence of patterns. Is somebody here? Slowly, I make my way over to my window before slowly pushing open my blinds. Jack?!

I had no faith in myself, I found everything I began to cherish tearing into fragments. “I shattered our home. I am so sorry… Please forgive me!” My home was falling apart with my own hands. I became the reason behind my darkness and I kept wailing at my own fault. “Don’t say this, Vincent, what broke-” Tears were rolling down, my breaths were suffocating me. Searching for my redemption, I gained ravage. “Our fucking home! Our marriage, that is what shattered because of my demeanor!” I whisper-yelled. Failing to conceal my tears, removing my hand and looking at the ground.

The mattress is torn and covered in stains and the frame is broken. "Grab the mattress and throw it against the door," I say, grabbing a part of the broken frame. "Why," the package asks, "What are you doing?" "Building a bridge," I reply, pushing one of the sides of the frame so it's standing. I stomp and break off all the beams. "Come on," Rebecca says, "Help me with this." Rebecca and the package lift the mattress up together, they place it on the desk. It does almost nothing to stop the infected. Meanwhile, I grab another side of the frame and once more, stomp and break off all the beams.

I have a fortune worth more than ten billion dollars, and I showed up to my high school reunion in an old hoodie. Someone asked how I'd been doing. I gave them a pained smile. "Bad investments. I owe seven million." The words were barely out when the prom queen on my right quietly slid her chair away from me. The class president on my left clapped me on the shoulder, then turned around and went off to toast somebody else. I took in every expression in that room and played my part to the end. After it broke up, a transfer notice popped up on my phone. $100,000 received. Underneath it was a note. [This is all I have right now. Use it for the emergency. There's no rush to pay me back.]