Novel & Cerita Burn For Me

As a healer, I keep taking in emergency patients around the clock just so I can save up enough money for a luxurious family trip. But after transferring the money into the family account, my mate, Leonard Cross, announces that he will be taking the entire family on the trip, whereas I'm required to stay at home. Everyone supports his decision. "Don't you always take overtime shifts on your day off? That's why I never considered the fact that you can go on this trip with us." I'm pissed, to say the least. "So, the four of you will be going, eh?" My sister-in-law, Rita Cross, pipes up, "Cassandra and Hannah will be joining us too." Cassandra Davis is Leonard's childhood sweetheart, whereas Hannah is the family's pet dog. It seems that everyone has received an invitation but me. After staying quiet for another beat, I nod. "Fine." Soon, I accept the three-year dispatch request to another place that's offered to me by my workplace. I also take the liberty to put the house—which I own the deed to—on sale. Since my family supports my career this much, I'm sure they will do the same when I decide to buy myself a new place to live for the sake of my business trip, right?

The story starts when Queshia found out about her husband, Maverick's, affair with a lady named, Claire, who he met before he got deployed to an exotic island located at the east, which resulted to a child to get dismay. She then struggles fixing their relationship and trying to trust him again for the sake of their marriage, all while she hides the tryst with the other woman from both hers and Maverick’s families, where she also struggles conceiving a baby due to having PCOS. She then recalls where they both started, and all the red flags she should have noticed before marrying Maverick.

After an abrupt stampede, Freya was hastily taken to the hospital, yet her mate Kingsley found solace in another woman. For three long years, Freya harbored the hope that her love would thaw Kingsley's icy heart, but alas, her yearning proved to be nothing more than a jest. She observed Kingsley showering the other woman with affection, and now, weary of unrequited devotion, she resolved to depart, vowing to reject him. However, the aloof Kingsley underwent an astonishing transformation, assuming a new persona as he fervently pursued Freya.

At the engagement party, the champagne tower is only half-built when Marcus Harrison answers a phone call. He glances at me and says, "I have to go. Lily collapsed at the airport." I say, "If you leave, we're done." He leaves anyway, in front of 200 guests. He carries Lily Bardot in his arms, wearing the coat I gave him, as he drives away in my car. The next day, he sends me an email that reads, "Lily will be moving into my apartment. She needs me, and I hope you can understand. Once Lily gets better, we'll get married. Please trust me." I stare at the screen and suddenly laugh. So what he wants isn't someone who loves him. It's someone who needs him. And I'm too independent, so I don't make the cut. That evening, I scroll through my contacts and find a number I've never given a second glance to. It belongs to someone who's been waiting for me for 23 years. I dial it. "Tomorrow night, 7:00 pm. Meet me at the restaurant by the sea."

At our wedding, my husband, Justin Garner, pushes me—three months pregnant—toward our enemies as an apology in order to save his foster sister, Clara Garner. "This is my sincerity. You can do whatever you want with her." I don't cry or make a scene. I quietly follow the enemies away. That's because in my previous life, I had traded all my wealth for freedom and returned to Justin's side. In the end, I was forced to drink drugs and lost my unborn baby, suffering for three days and nights. "Justin, those 'enemies' were people you hired to act, and Maxine didn't even lose her innocence. Why did you have to get rid of the baby?" Clara asks. Justin coldly laughs. "If you're acting, you have to make it look real." I died full of hatred. When I wake up again, I choose to let those people take me away. Three years later, when I arrive at a banquet on the arms of my new lover, Justin goes mad, grabbing me and demanding, "Maxine Preston, where is our child?"

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.

My wife had called me in the middle of the night with a hint of drunkenness in her voice. She admitted to having too much to drink and asked me to come get her. I hurried to the private club she mentioned, only to find myself having to change into a bathrobe as soon as I got there. Surrounded by a group of wealthy women in their fifties, they playfully flirted and teased me relentlessly. Suddenly, a few of them pounced, pushing me to the ground and demanding I crawl like a dog. Despite the humiliation, my main concern was still my wife's wellbeing. Hours passed before she finally showed up, disheveled, supported by her male assistant, looking at me with a cold smirk. It was then that the truth hit me. This whole situation was a scheme she had orchestrated to please him. My anger rising, I called and spoke through gritted teeth, "Three days. I want every single business under the Spencers wiped out."

Have you ever been betrayed by the two men you love the most?? And one of them turns out to be your very own best friend?? And one you never even thought of?? If yes, find out what happened to me in my story of deceit, heartbreak, sadness, depression, ' death ' and finding love again.

I have transmigrated into this toxic romance novel for three years. The system tells me that as long as Kendrick Miller's affection level for me reaches 100%, I can finally go home. For the sake of returning home, I spend three years acting like a hopeless simp. One day, the system suddenly tells me to catch him cheating, claiming it is just a little game couples play to strengthen their relationship. It says, "Layla, Kendrick deliberately let you discover him at the hotel with his first love because he's trying to make you jealous! Men love seeing women fight over them! "Quick! Rush in and join them. Become part of their little game and his affection will definitely skyrocket! "Trust me, this is exactly what he's waiting for. He wants to see that you care!" Listening to the system's passionate encouragement, I gather my courage and shove open the hotel room door. But instead of gaining Kendrick's affection, I am met with his cold, disgusted gaze and a stack of cash thrown directly at me. He sneers, "Are you trying to get my attention with this stunt again? Take the money and get lost. Stop bothering me." To my humiliation, the security drags me out of the hotel unceremoniously. I am left crouched over in the rain, shivering from the cold. I wipe away my tears and exclaim, "I'm such an idiot! I let that stupid system trick me again!"

When I opened my eyes again, I was pinned against the floor-to-ceiling window of the skyscraper by my stepbrother, Rocco. The man I had been infatuated with for a decade. He panted, his hot lips and tongue trailing along my collarbone as he murmured, "Don't go." In my past life, on the night I received my acceptance letter from London Business School, Rocco got blind drunk. Late that night, I gave in to his pleas for me to stay. I willingly gave myself to him. After a debauched night, his cherished fiancée, Clara, caught me walking out of his room the next morning, my clothes in disarray. She ran out in tears, her parting words ringing in the air, "I'll let you have each other." A month after she disappeared, the family search party found her engagement ring at the edge of a cliff. At the bottom of the cliff lay mangled remains, battered by the waves until they were unrecognizable. Rocco clutched that ring and didn't sleep all night. On the surface, he acted as if nothing had happened, even arranging a trip for me to Sicily, telling me to go and relax. The night I landed, I was kidnapped by assassins from a rival family. I screamed for him to pay the ransom, only to hear him give the order himself over the phone: "Don't make her death a quick one. The Costello princess? She's nothing but a damn liability. Torture her. Break every bone in her body. " "This is what she owes Clara." You like playing games, Rocco. But in this life, I refuse to play along.