Cora Gauthier

Mi esposo, Damien Falcone, tenía noventa y nueve amantes. Y yo era la princesa de la mafia por la que los hombres hacían fila para ofrecerme su vida. El día que empezamos a salir, todos en nuestro grupo hicieron apuestas. Decían que no duraríamos ni tres meses. Pero entonces, todo cambió. Por mí, bloqueó a todas de su celular, construyó una mansión y se arrodilló para pedir mi mano. Luego, en nuestra noche de bodas, me dijo que quería un matrimonio abierto. —Podemos estar con otras personas, si queremos. Pero la lealtad… es solo para nosotros. Acepté. Y entonces apareció su amante número cien, Sophia Ricci. Traicionó a nuestra familia en un trato de armas. Casi le cuesta la vida a mi padre. Pero Damien la protegió. Incluso la metió a vivir en nuestra casa. Así que hice lo que cualquier princesa de la mafia con el corazón roto haría: me emborraché y desperté en la cama de otro. Lo que no sabía era que ese hombre era el tío de Damien.

Cuando mi novio piloto canceló por decimoctava vez nuestra boda, me cansé. La primera vez, dejó todo porque su alumna tuvo la regla y corrió a comprarle té de jengibre con azúcar moreno. La segunda, su alumna falló en una misión; él solo dijo que estaba de mal humor y me convirtió en el hazmerreír de todos en el banquete. En tres años de relación, siempre que ella tenía un problema, él me dejaba plantada sin pensarlo dos veces. Al fin, comprendí: quizá en su corazón yo nunca importé. Así que compré un billete a París y decidí viajar sola por el mundo. De esta forma, ya nadie volvería a abandonarme.

En el noveno año de amar con Adrián Martínez, su padre falleció. La primera línea del testamento establecía que Adrián Martínez y Luna Fernández debían tener un hijo. Y el día en que el niño cumpliera un mes, sería también el día en que él heredaría la fortuna de su padre. Esto fue cuando los descubrí en nuestra cama, él mismo me lo explicó. Aquella noche, mientras encendía su cigarrillo después del acto, murmuró en voz baja: —Susana, espera un poco más. Cuando reciba la herencia, me casaré contigo. Desde entonces, cada vez que Adrián iba a reunirse con Luna en nuestra casa, colgaba una campanilla en la puerta. Desde la muerte de su padre hasta hoy, esa campanilla ha sonado noventa y nueve veces.

The marriage between Zoey Jenner and Laurence Scott initially started as only a transaction. However, she has always had feelings for him, and the show isn’t as make-believe as it seems. Her husband, on the other hand, has never once considered her feelings or felt anything for her in returned. For her, he holds not a bit of love. Zoey’s long-held crush for Laurence dies on the day he made her have a surgery in the hospital. She abandons her pride and begs her husband to show mercy to their child. Yet, Laurence only calmly says, “Don’t be naive.”Many years later, Zoey returns to Northwell. He pins her down in a dark corner and says huskily, “Zoey, don’t go.”

“Take her away.” When the werewolves suddenly started to treat the human decently, no one suspected much. That is, until they realised the reason behind the university’s “life applications” and the curse that reigned since Alpha King Alexander’s time. Now that Thalia Grace Anderson was put into the limelight, she changed her priorities to fight for her kind and her people. However as she unfolds the secrets put in depth, she finds herself in places she never imagined. The most horrific of them all being in the arms of the Alpha King.

When the murderer tortures me to death, my criminal investigator dad and chief forensic pathologist mom are cheering at my brother's match. The criminal saws off my tongue. He answers my Dad's call with my finger. Just before the call ends, Dad's cold voice cuts through. "Playing dead, huh? We should never have brought him back." The murderer chuckles mockingly. "Looks like I grabbed the wrong kid. I thought they'd care more about their real son." When Mom and Dad arrive at the crime scene later, they stare at the mutilated body in shock and rage at the murderer's cruelty. But they never realize that the broken, bloodied body is their biological son.

Despite using my cornea, my husband, Felix Halward, forced me to kneel on glass shards. Despite using my heart, my daughter declared that I was not fit to be her mother. Before my artificial heart stopped beating, I called Felix, only to have him snap at me, “Liana, could you stop kicking up a fuss? If you want to die that badly, do it somewhere far away! I’m not collecting your corpse!” I shut my remaining left eye as I lay on the snow. Later on, Felix, who had stopped loving me, plucked out his own eyeball. My daughter, who had denounced me, tried taking her life multiple times just so that she could see me again. However, I no longer longed for their love.

When the flood came, my father, who was the captain of the rescue team, immediately rescued my cousin and cut my rescue rope. "Vivian can't swim, and there's not enough space on the helicopter. You won't die even if we rescue you a little later." I was rushed to the hospital while hanging onto a thread, but my mother, who was a doctor, gave the last bag of rare blood to my cousin, who was not even seriously injured. I begged with a weak voice, but my mother pried my fingers apart and said, "Your cousin is anemic and has always been in poor health. Must you fight for attention at such a time?" My parents had no idea that I stopped breathing when they abandoned me.

After they pulled me out of the surf, my fiancé, Milo Schneider, looked wrecked—eyes red, breathing all over the place. On impulse, I decided to mess with him. "I think I lost my memory. Where am I?" I kept my face blank. He froze for a second, then shoved his brother, Sean Schneider, toward me. "Sean, take your fiancée to the hospital—now." Yeah. That smile on my face? Gone. Sean pulled me into his arms. "Abigail, I'm your fiancé. Did you forget?"

I was the real daughter—unloved, unwanted, and cast aside. The design draft I poured my heart into was stolen by my second brother and gifted to the fake daughter. Then he accused me of being a plagiarist. My father, the richest man in the city, had me blacklisted from the entire industry. The fake daughter pretended to apologize, then pushed me off a cliff. When I woke up, nearly all my bones had been shattered. I called my fiancé, the captain of the rescue team, but he was cradling the fake daughter's sprained ankle. He scoffed, "Oh, you had an accident too? Want me to save you? Why don't you just die already?" My body grew colder under the crushing pain. My eldest brother, the forensic pathologist, cut open my rotting corpse while grumbling that he was late for the fake daughter's birthday. Yet when they finally saw me again, they all cried, begging for my forgiveness.