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Pour sauver ma famille, je mourais d'un empoisonnement à l'argent. Marcus, mon fiancé, qui m'avait promis de ne jamais m'abandonner, voulait désormais prélever mon rein en bonne santé pour Céleste, la fille adoptive de mes parents. Personne ne se souciait de savoir si je vivais ou mourais. Alors, j'ai refusé le traitement conservateur. Je me suis injecté la potion de vie de la sorcière. Le prix ? Dans soixante-douze heures, je devrais mourir d'une défaillance totale des organes. Durant ces trois jours, j'ai offert mon centre de guérison privé — celui que j'avais construit de mes propres mains — à Céleste. Maman et Papa ont rayonné de joie. « Ma bonne fille, tu as enfin mûri. Tu prends soin de ta sœur, maintenant. » Marcus a voulu reporter notre mariage pour s'occuper de Céleste. J'ai accepté calmement. Il m'a félicité d'avoir enfin fait preuve de compréhension. J'ai même cédé mon poste de guérisseuse en chef de la meute à Céleste. Mes parents et Marcus étaient si enthousiastes qu'ils ont organisé une grande fête en son honneur. Ils ont invité toutes les personnalités influentes de la meute pour célébrer sa nouvelle fonction. Je me demandais simplement une chose : après ma mort, verseraient-ils une seule larme pour moi ?

Est-ce que l’amour de notre vie est forcément l’homme de notre vie? C’est ce qu’on va voir à travers l’histoire de Brenda.

Je vous laisse juste découvrir cette merveilleuse histoire et en juger par vous même à la fin Je vous promets que vous n'allez pas le regretter...

When I see someone asking for help in an assignment related to the entrepreneur course on the college forum, I join the group chat using a student account. I even help refine several financial models and market strategies because of my job's nature. Everyone in the group chat is excited, to say the least. Every day, they keep calling me a genius while urging me to improve the details of the whole assignment. Two months later, the assignment's quality is very close to perfection. But the group chat suddenly goes silent. I scroll through the chat history out of curiosity, only to find out that the students have already created another group chat. "That senior isn't an official teammate of ours. Let's not tell her about us using this assignment for an upcoming competition." "Precisely! Our names are the only ones on the list! She'd better not steal the credit during tomorrow's finals!" "With one less person involved, we each get an additional tens of thousands of dollars' worth of rewards!" As I look at the screen, I just let out a soft chuckle. It appears that this isn't an assignment at all. But unfortunately for these students, I happen to be one of the judges sitting at the judging station tomorrow.

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

RISE ABOVE THE ZODIACS SERIES | Dos - PISCES Free Phillian Zodiac is a frustrated painter and a full-time fisherman. Mula gabi hanggang madaling araw ay nasa gitna ito ng karagatan kasama ang mga tauhan para mangisda, at sa umaga naman ay tulog at nagtatago sa araw. In the afternoon, when the sky is red, he would go out of his room and sit on his veranda overlooking the mountains and the sea, and from there, he would start painting. He paints everything his eyes could see, and not a lot of people know this. Isang hapon, habang nasa veranda siya ng kaniyang silid at ipinipinta ang karagatan ay may nakita siyang palutang-lutang na kahoy sa dalampasigan. Using his binoculars, he learns that it isn't just a piece of wood but a raft with a person on it. An unconscious--probably almost dead person who might need some help. Naisip niyang baka isa iyon sa mga mangingisdang nagkaroon ng aksidente sa gitna ng karagatan. At dahil siya ang nakakita ay responsibilidad niyang tulungan ang taong iyon, lalo at nasa bahagi ito ng beach na pag-aari na ng pamilya niya. Nang marating niya ang baybayin ay saka niya napagtantong hindi mangingisda ang naroon, but a woman wearing a bridal gown. Nakadapa ito at nanginginig sa lamig. He saved her and brought her to his place. His female assistant nursed her, and when she woke up the next morning, she claimed to have no memory of the night before. Naisip niya na maaaring nagka-trauma ito kaya nalimot ang nangyari, pero anong gulat niya nang magkaharap sila sa unang pagkakataon ay bigla siya nitong pinagmumumura at binato ng kung anu-anong madampot nito. Odd, but she knows him, and she is furious at him. Bakit daw hindi siya sumipot sa kasal nila? Like, what the f*ck?

The day before our wedding, my husband gives me a sapphire ring. I place a hand on my slightly bulging belly. As I lie on the operating table, I call him and tell him I want to call the wedding off. Shortly after, his secretary calls me tearfully. "I was the one who was impudent enough to select the ring, ma'am. Please don't blame Mr. Nolan for this. It's all my fault." Archer Nolan holds her in his arms and coaxes her gently for a long time. He only says one thing to me. "You're already carrying my child. Can you really bear to leave me?"

Ma meilleure amie, qui insistait pour ne pas se marier, a enlevé le sperme que j'avais choisi lorsqu'elle m'a accompagnée à la FIV, et je savais alors qu'elle était née de nouveau elle aussi. Dans ma vie précédente, je voulais avoir un enfant métis, alors j'ai eu recours à la FIV. A l'époque, mon amie se moquait de moi, me considérant comme complètement idiote d'élever un enfant pour un étranger, mais elle ne s'attendait pas à ce qu'un demi-mois plus tard, je sois emmenée chez la famille royale à Dubaï. Il s'est avéré que le sperme que j'avais choisi appartenait au prince métis de huit nations de Dubaï. Non seulement il voulait m'épouser, mais il promettait aussi que notre enfant hériterait du trône. Mon enfant et moi avons été valorisés par toute la famille royale, et j'étais parée de bijoux qui brillaient de mille feux. Ma meilleure amie, en revanche, a été licenciée de son entreprise et exclue de l'industrie en raison de son féminisme excessif, qui a suscité la colère de ses collaborateurs. Lors de la fête du 100e jour de mon fils, elle a utilisé toutes ses économies pour acheter un billet d'avion afin de venir me rejoindre. Lorsque je l'ai accueillie, elle a tué mon fils en le jetant par terre et a versé sur moi de l'acide sulfurique concentré. « Qu'est-ce qui te rend si chanceuse ? Tu ne le mérites pas, sal*pe ! » En rouvrant les yeux, je suis revenue au jour où j'ai demandé à ma meilleure amie de m'accompagner à la FIV...

Résumé : Il m’a tout pris. Et je vais tout lui reprendre. Quand j’avais huit ans, Antonio Guerero a fait exploser mon monde à coups de balles et de rires. Il a violé ma mère sous les yeux de mon père impuissant, puis les a exécutés l’un après l’autre. Ma sœur Doriane a subi le même sort, fauchée dans son innocence. Moi, j’étais cachée sous la table. Paralysée. Spectatrice impuissante de l’horreur. Depuis ce jour, je ne vis plus. Je survis. Dix-huit ans à nourrir la colère, à former ma haine. Dix-huit ans à me forger une nouvelle identité. Mon nom est Layanne Williams, j’ai 26 ans, et je suis devenue l’une des meilleures Bodyguards de Mexico. Recueillie par Lys Taylor, une femme brisée elle aussi par Guerero, j’ai appris à me battre, à tuer, à survivre. Elle a fait de moi une arme. Et aujourd’hui, cette arme est prête à frapper. Antonio Guerero est devenu un homme puissant : ministre influent, chef d’entreprise intouchable, père de famille aimé. Mais il a oublié une chose. Moi. Il m’a volé mon passé. Je vais lui arracher son présent. Sa famille. Son pouvoir. Sa vie. Je suis sa fin.

I hated my husband most in the moment he died for me, swallowed by the flames. Right before he took his last breath, he tore our marriage certificate in half, his eyes burning red. "If there's another life," he said, "I'd rather we never met." My whole body went rigid. Only then did I understand—he blamed me. Ten years ago, his childhood sweetheart and her family had been exiled. She had begged him for help. But that day, he'd gone with me on a trip and missed the chance to save her. And for ten long years, he held that grudge against me. After my husband's death, the world turned on me. Even my in-laws, who had always cared for me, looked at me with pure disgust. "If not for you, Russ wouldn't be dead. We wish you'd never been born!" I couldn't bear it anymore. I ended my life. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I would be back on the day Russ Williams came to propose. This time, I would do exactly as he wished. I would give everyone what they wanted.