Characters Watch The Show Fanfiction Novels & Stories

To drown away her pain from a harsh breakup, Jayda went to a bar to get wasted. She met Sebastian Miller, The multimillionaire with the worst personality but incredibly sexy. She had a one night stand with him, creating a bond that binds them forever!

Three days before my wedding, I find out that my fiance, Carlo Romano, has changed the wedding venue from my mother's estate to a villa located in St. Morizia, which happens to be his childhood sweetheart, Adriana Montanari's favorite place in the whole wide world. When I'm about to confront Carlo, I overhear him complaining to his friend. "Thank goodness Adriana has a good eye for beauty! Otherwise, I'll definitely get humiliated and mocked by everyone for hosting my wedding at such a rundown place!" His friend asks, "Didn't you agree to host the wedding ceremony at her late mother's home? Aren't you worried that she might not marry you out of fury once she finds out that you changed the venue without her permission?" Carlo merely sneered in return. "Giada's family is insanely weak. Marrying me is her only path out of poverty. She can't risk losing me at all. "Besides, I've already told the wedding planner to call her and inform her about my decision. She must be booking another flight and rushing toward the new destination as we speak." Rage and humiliation swirl around in my chest. I gnash my teeth together, but I opt to turn around and walk away in the end. Three days later, Carlo's wedding goes on as usual at the snow mountain. But I never bought myself another ticket, nor did I appear at the new wedding venue. Instead, I've exchanged wedding rings with another man in Mom's manor located in Tuscanica. Carlo fails to realize that I chose to marry him not because I view him as a ticket to wealth. It's purely because I've loved him for 12 long years. I, Giada Castellani, am bold enough to show my feelings. Since I can enter a relationship, I can always exit it freely. That's why Carlo is never my one and only choice in marriage.

The day my husband left the country on a business trip with his assistant, I learned—by sheer accident—that his archenemy was plotting revenge overseas. Without a second thought, I raced to the airport and stopped him from boarding the plane. But his assistant went ahead, alone. And over there, she was killed brutally. Not a trace of her remains was ever found. When my husband received the news, he fell apart. Wracked with guilt, eaten alive by remorse, he spiraled into a relentless, violent mania. In the past three years, I'd been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count because of him. And this time, he pushed me so far—I lost our child. Then I overheard a conversation between him and his secretary. "Sir, Casey is still alive. Why keep pretending you're sick? Aren't you afraid your wife will find out and leave you?" "Leave me? What right does she have to be angry?" He laughed coldly. "If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, Casey would've never been lured away by that bastard. Everything Linda's suffering now—she brought it on herself."

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

"Are you sure you want to change your name, Ms. Anderson? You'll have to change your degree certificate, documentation, and passport once you do." Noelle Anderson nods. "I'm sure." The employee tries to talk her out of it. "It's quite troublesome for adults to change their names, and your current name sounds nice. Are you sure you don't want to think about it?" "No, I'm done thinking." She signs the form. "Sorry for the trouble and thanks." "Alright, then. The name you're changing to is… Aria Byrd, right?" "Yeah." Aria Byrd—it means a flight to freedom.

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.

My fiancee, Isabelle Bailey, engages in a passionate kiss with her stage partner, Shawn Sanders, in a theater play. While the audience is wholly touched by the romance depicted by the main characters of the play, I know for a fact that the actual script doesn't feature the kissing scene at all. Guilt flickers across Isabelle's face at my confrontation. But she argues, "We were just acting! Are you saying that I can't act out romance scenes anymore?" I no longer demand answers from Isabelle like a hysterical fool. Instead, I give the roses that are cultivated from a new breed to the background actors. After leaving the afterparty, I call my mentor, Patrick White. "Professor, I'm willing to travel to the northwest to plant roses there."

"I'd love to see the look in your eyes when you kneel with a leash around your throat and do as your master says," Marshall Domayne, the hot guy I'd hated from highschool said to my face. "You'll make a great sub." "I'll never be a sub," I countered. "I love clean sex and can never be interested in your kinks." His lips lifted in a small smirk. "Ladies like you who are always in denial are the sweetest to break." .... All her life, Solayne wanted a man who would love her the right way. Fuck her the normal way. What she never prayed for was to get entangled with the rude difficult brother of her male best friend. She hated him terribly, but when the arrogant shithead became the only person that could help her with a scandal that was threatening to ruin her future, she had to go to the devil for help. But her best friend wasn't happy with the entanglement. He hated the way they looked perfect in public. Hated the way his brother's hand fit around her waist, the way he brushed her hair in public, and the way he kissed her like no one was watching. CONTENT WARNING! This book is rated 18+. It is twisted and dark in its own way. The MMC is a sadist and not someone that could pass for a saint. Raad with discretion.

Giorgo Romero, the Don of the Romero family, gets ambushed by a suicidal madman who has bombs strapped to him. When that happens, my husband, Fabio Lopez, and his troops have already gone to a fashion show with his childhood sweetheart, Reina Digiorno, so that they can protect her there. Instead of pressing the signal button on my ring, I launch myself at Giorgo despite being heavily pregnant. Just like that, I'm able to protect him from the explosion with my body. In my previous life, I had pressed the button. Fabio had ditched Reina in favor of hurrying back to the scene to save Giorgo's life. Because of his contribution, he gets elevated to the position of Underboss. But Reina got mad at Fabio for leaving her in advance, resulting in her crossing the highway out of pure spite. That was how she got hit by a car and died. While Fabio didn't say anything, he chose to send me to an underground auction house on the day I went into labor. "The Don had so many soldati protecting him! Why did you force me to come back in the first place? Isn't it because you just want the glory of being the Underboss's wife? "If it wasn't for you, Reina wouldn't have died! You must go through a thousand times the suffering she did!" I could only watch as the guests bid for my organs one by one. Not even my newborn's umbilical cord could be spared from the auction. In the end, I died from an infection that had occurred while my organs were being removed. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Giorgo gets ambushed.

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?