Cloud Atlas Novel Analysis Novels & Stories

Everyone knew that Aria Jackson had loved Larry Spencer for years. The usually obedient Aria got tattoos for him, broke rules for him, and even moved to a foreign city for him. But when she fell into the lake and he rescued her rival instead, leaving her soaking and miserable, her heart finally shattered completely. The man who came after Larry held her protectively in his arms and suggested with a gentle laugh, "Miss Jackson, have you considered teaching your ex-husband a lesson?" She promptly filed for divorce and married Archer Duncan, the heir to the Duncan empire and the powerful CEO of Duncan Industries. That evening, their marriage certificate was posted on social media. The typically aloof Larry finally showed his desperation, begging her not to marry Archer and then turning to threaten him, "You think she loves you? She's just using the Duncan family's wealth and connections!" Archer simply tightened his arm around her waist and replied calmly, "So what? Fortunately, I have both in abundance." What no one knew was that Aria had been Archer's carefully laid plan all along. He had deeply loved this rose from the beginning—he admired her ambition and was eager to support her boldness and independence.

[This is an English language version/translation] When Atlas, the driver of CEO Connor meets the broke woman, Heather, who wants to flip her poor world into the other way around, she rejects him and chooses her rich childhood best friend, Theory, in exchange of her virginity and also part of their deal in the past. Little did Heather knows that after she turned down Atlas for being a poor, his CEO boss, Connor, made him the heir of the company. Heather finds herself blind for months in her love for Theory that abuses her and cheats on her. She goes back to Atlas, one rainy night of December, asks for a second chance but soon as Atlas steps back after their hug, she saw another woman from behind in her late pregnant state, she's Margaery— Atlas' wife.

"Ms. Jones, the service to fake your death that you requested has been arranged. Here's the agreement. Please sign here." Isabella Jones glanced at the contract that the person placed before her. Client: Isabella Jones Cause of death: Falling from a mountain, eaten by wild animals. Unable to retrieve the remains of the body Time of death: One week from now One week from now would mark the fifth anniversary of her marriage to Samuel Grant. It was also the day she had planned to fake her death and leave him. Since that was the date it all began, it might as well be when it ended.

The day that I divorced my third husband, the system told me that I had completely failed my mission. I had married three times in this world and they were all targets that were supposed to fall for me. But every single one of them chose to divorce me because of Wendy Somerfield. The system pitied me for doing my best for the past 30 years, so it asked me to target my son. It said that if my son could confidently choose me, between me and Wendy, then I could live. However, it was no exception that the son I gave birth to after 40 weeks of pregnancy chose Wendy, just like my three ex-husbands. They all even pinned the cause of Wendy's illness on me. My first husband, who was my childhood sweetheart, pretended to be softhearted, but he was actually ruthless. He actually tried to convince me to donate one of my kidneys to Wendy. My second husband, who I met on a blind date, used a scalpel to personally cut open my body. My third husband, who I fell in love with at first sight, even threatened me with my son. While spitting out blood from my mouth, I agreed to their requests with a smile. However, when they saw me being pushed out of the operating room, those people who turned their backs on me went crazy.

On our wedding day, Lily, the apple of Patrick Luther's eye, tried to kill herself. I grabbed onto his sleeve. "Please don't go." He pried my fingers off, one by one. "Don't make a scene. Lily needs me right now." I watched him walk away, laughing until my eyes turned red. If you don't love me, then I'm done with you. “Patrick, this time I'm the one leaving you."

At midnight, Marvin Cooper throws a confession form at my face. The sharp edge of the paper cuts the corner of my eye, and bright red blood begins to seep out. He barks, "Alyssa hit someone with her car. You have a similar build to her. Go to the police station and take the blame." His tone leaves no room for argument, as if he is casually asking me to make him a late-night snack. His first love, Alyssa Evans, hides behind him and tugs pitifully at his sleeve. "But Marvin, if Ms. Huston goes to jail, who's going to make the nourishing soup for you?" Marvin lets out a disdainful snort and looks at me with contempt. "She's just a piece of trash from an orphanage. She should be honored to take the blame for you. Without me, she wouldn't even be able to feed herself. Other than obeying me, what choice does she have?" I wipe the blood from the corner of my eye and look at the man for whom I have spent three years as an unpaid housekeeper and a living blood bank. To treat his stomach condition, I burn my hands countless times cooking for him. I become so anemic that I easily collapse because I've been donating my blood to Alyssa. Marvin is certain that I love him with all my heart, and that I can only cling to him for the rest of my life. I don't cry. I simply take off the cheap apron I'm wearing and say, "You don't need to throw me out. I'll leave on my own." Taking out my phone, I dial a number I have blocked for three years. "I've had my fun. Send a helicopter to pick me up tomorrow. It's time for me to go home and take over the family business."

Ten years ago, I was the main culprit of the 715 explosion that shocked the entire country. Everyone believed that I took huge bribes from a corporation and tampered with safety data. In the end, I ended up burning myself to death out of guilt. Today marks the tenth year after my death. My former fiancé, Brody Pierce, extracts my soul from the particle database. However, he isn't doing it to clear my name. Instead, he wants to put my soul on trial in public. The courtroom is in an uproar. "Laura Quinn is a criminal! She is utterly heartless! Every cent of the dirty money she took is stained with our family's blood." "She even betrayed her own fiancé. There is nothing she wouldn't do for money!" "Mr. Pierce is a righteous man. He's personally putting that wicked woman on trial." The crowd rages, wishing they could annihilate my soul particles. Amid the overwhelming curses, the quantum soul analyzer begins to activate. Yet, when the pure white soul that represents absolute goodness appears, everyone is stunned into silence.

I become paralyzed after trying to save my wife. Seven years later, she holds a knife to our young son's neck and forces me to donate my kidney to her male best friend. She says I'm worthless now that I'm already paralyzed—what does it matter whether or not I have my kidneys? What she doesn't know is that I already lost a kidney many years ago when trying to save her. Now, she's taking away the only one I have left!

"Sweetie, are you coming? I'll wait for you at our usual spot." Henry Lane is about to go to bed when he receives a voice message. It's spoken in Rushky. He turns his back to me as his face lights up in joy. Then, he answers in Rushky, "Of course. I love you." I'm about to fall asleep, but I jolt when I hear that. The sweet voice on the other end of the line rings out again. "Your wife won't find out about this, will she?" "I'm talking to you to her face now." Henry snorts. "We're speaking in Rushky; she can't understand us." My heart twists painfully. It turns out he's never loved or truly understood me. He thinks I'm just a housewife whose world revolves around him; he has no idea I once studied in Rushnia for two years as an exchange student. I suppress my sorrow and heartbreak as I caress my belly. Then, I make an appointment with a local hospital for an abortion.

He slid a paper across the table, his eyes cold. " Sign it." She blinked, confused. "Why?" "It’s our marriage certificate." He spoke as if discussing the weather. "I’ve already signed it. Your turn." Siya froze. **Marriage?** To a man like him? Her? A whore. Pregnant. She looked up at him, pleading. "I-I can be your maid. Do anything. Just… don’t hurt my baby." Her voice trembled, careful, trying to bargain with the devil himself. But Abhimanyu’s gaze was relentless, unmoved. His tone cut like ice. "I want you to sign it right now." Her heart hammered in her chest. "But… how… why me?" She stuttered, breaking. "I don’t want to marry you." She stood, defiance shaking her body. The word **marriage** tasted like ash, reminding her of someone she loathed beyond reason. Abhimanyu leaned in, his smile devoid of warmth. "You **will** marry me. Or…" The room fell silent, thick with the unspoken threat. **The world knows** what he is capable of. "Plea.se," she whispered. Her voice was barely a breath. Siya’s legs screamed to run. But there was nowhere to go. His voice low, lethal. "Listen to me, TweetyBird. If I can save you, I can ruin you too.' His eyes darkened. "Sign it. And you’ll be mine." "Why me?" Her voice broke. ************ Siya laid on the bed on her fours, her hands tied together with a handcuff as Abhimanyu thrusted slowly from her back. He changed their position making her completely under his mercy. As the sun rose in the sky, he uncuffed her. "Scream my name!" He groaned going faster than before. But his pace didn’t slacken at all. He had turned into a needy beast, who was ruining every ounce of sanity left in Siya. *********** ***********