Die With A Smile Bruno Mars Translate Novels & Stories

My mother had a rare disease. After months of dead ends, I found one person in the country who could treat her. She told me there was a price. She said she needed a husband. I agreed. For my mother, I agreed. For six years I was her ATM. I bought her the bags. I bought her the watches. It got worse. She used my money to keep a kept man. She brought him into our bed. The day my mother had her last surgery, she walked out of the operating room halfway through to go celebrate her lover's birthday. The moment they pronounced my mother dead, I decided there and then, she was paying for that with her life.

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.

When Joy Staton, my adoptive sister, fainted in the freezer on her birthday, William Staton, my brother, checked on the security footage in rage. The moment he saw that I was the one who took Joy into the freezer, he kicked me inside without hesitation. Before shutting the door, he stared at me in disgust. “You’ve been pushing your luck a lot these days, huh? If I’d been a second too late, Joy would’ve died!” I wanted to defend myself, but William refused to listen and slammed the door shut. I heard him talking to the bodyguards outside. “If she doesn’t apologize, don’t let her out!” But he did not know that Joy had set the freezer to –58 °F. I did not even have the strength to complain about the freezer being cold. William did not know that the sister he once loved dearly had stopped breathing in the freezer. He had killed his only blood relative left in the world.

Vous trouvez 2020 compliqué ? Essayez de vivre avec un démon à l'intérieur de votre corps dans un monde où ils sont nos plus grands ennemis. Afin de trouver ma place dans ce monde, j'ai décidé de rejoindre la garde en espérant fuir ma famille et peut-être en savoir plus sur l'origine de ma naissance. Ma vie n'a jamais été facile mais je n'avais vraiment pas besoin d'un crétin égocentrique de se mêler à l'équation.

The operation had just gone dark when the chatter started in the comms. “Easy, Zane. Don’t burn through another mattress.” A low laugh came through the headset. Relaxed. Careless. “I’ve been deployed for six months. I needed the release. And don’t let my wife hear that.” More laughter. “Right. Take care of the little mistress first, then call home and play devoted husband?” My phone rang. His voice when I answered was warm. Intimate. Soft in a way it never was on the field. He said he missed me. Said he counted the days until he could come home. I watched the live drone feed while he said it. What he didn’t know was that three months ago, I had quietly transferred into the family’s Strategic Intelligence division. Every operation his crew ran, I was the one behind the monitors—tracking shipments, rerouting safehouses, intercepting rival signals, listening to every word spoken over secured lines. The first night he slept with her, I logged the timestamp. 00:43 hours. When the call ended, I dialed another number—encrypted, family internal. “I’ll accept your offer,” I said calmly. “After this job, I’m stepping away.” The voice on the other end was steady. Controlled. Powerful. “You’ll leave after the Palermo Capture,” he replied. “I’ll personally see to your relocation.” A pause. “Three days.”

Pour divorcer de Lucas Ferrand, j'ai proposé de quitter le foyer sans rien emporter, renonçant même à notre fils de trois ans, Noé. Voyant que j'avais délibérément enfilé mes vieux vêtements d'avant notre union, Lucas a hésité un instant, avant de ricaner : « Quoi ? Tu abandonnes même Noé, l'héritier du clan que tu avais eu tant de mal à mettre au monde ? » « Tu ne poussais pas le bouchon un peu trop loin ? Tu risquais de ne plus pouvoir faire marche arrière ! » J'ai signé l'acte de divorce et je l'ai fait glisser devant lui. « Ne t'en fais pas, ce n'était pas une comédie. » Lucas m'a regardée avec surprise avant d'apposer sa signature. « Tu étais donc devenue raisonnable ? Très bien. Dans ma grande bonté, je t'ai accordé le droit de venir voir l'enfant plus tard. » Reposant son stylo-plume, il m'a dévisagée avec circonspection : « Si tu avais des regrets et que tu m'implorais à cet instant, une réconciliation ne serait pas impossible… » Je l'ai interrompu brusquement et je me suis levée pour partir. Lucas pensait sans cesse que je l'avais épousé par pure convoitise, pour le pouvoir de sa famille mafieuse en profitant d'une ancienne faveur. Pour lui, je n'avais qu'un seul but : donner naissance à un fils pour hériter du clan. Mais lorsqu'il a appris ma disparition, il ne s'est plus trompé sur mes intentions.

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel.

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

I was pregnant and due any day. Austin Revelstone, my husband, had a sugar baby named Tawny Sully. Each time they renewed their arrangement, money came into my mother’s special care account. One day, he stayed a little longer to talk to me. Because of it, he was one minute late for his date with Tawny. Tawny was upset. She threw a tantrum and threatened to terminate their agreement. She would only stay if I aborted my baby. So, Austin slid the abortion form and a check for three million dollars across the table to me. “Please, just sign it. We can always have another kid. If Tawny cries anymore, she’ll get wrinkles.” He looked calm and unbothered. It was as if he were just talking about the weather. I raised my head and looked at him in disbelief. I trembled for a long time. Then, I finally signed my name on the abortion form. I wiped my tears and gave the check back to him. I made one additional request. “Let’s make that fake divorce certificate real this time.” I no longer needed his financial support for my mother’s surgery.

Angel Hale has spent her whole life worshipping one man. Vincent Hale. He was the man who adopted her after her parents died in a mysterious cold blooded murder by their enemies. To Angel, Vincent is perfection. His deep voice dampens her panties, his presence makes her knees go weak. She calls him Daddy, not by blood, but by obsession, desire, and the twisted bond she built around him since childhood. But Vincent has a dark secret, one that will turn Angel’s world upside down. Now she is stuck between two daddies. Uncle Daniel who wants to ruin her and Daddy who tells her she is his. Only his. But Angel cannot resist the desire of both men who want to claim her. Can she defy the Daddy she loved so blindly? Or will Daniel pull drag her back into his darkness forever? And even more terrifying… What will Daniel do when someone tries to take his doll away? Even if it’s his best friend. The war between Daddy and Uncle is coming—and Angel is the prize both are willing to spill blood to claim. PLEASE NOTE: This book is an extremely DARK EROTIC romance with HEAVY EXPLICIT scenes, torture, human trafficking. The main characters are the villains you don’t want to cross paths with. Be warned!!!