Does Alex Karev Die Novels & Stories

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

I was just a married woman trying to survive my husband’s debts. But when I took the job as a maid for three powerful, controlling, dominant men. I walked into something far darker than dusty shelves and dishes in the sink. They don’t just want their floors spotless. No, they want me bound and bent over on their bed. They say I’m too pretty to be stuck with a loser and too sweet for plain sex and too soft to resist them. And they’ll stop at nothing until they ruin my marriage, break me open and make me theirs. Even if it means dragging me into a world where dominance is law, and obedience is survival.

He left her unknowingly pregnant to Join the Army. 7years later He returns as her Bodyguard. She is in an Unhappy Marriage, used as a bargaining chip for her Tyrant Father. As an undercover for the Military, Andrew has a Job to do. keep Claire Safe and Protect old flames from flaring are his priorities.

My mother was once adored and protected by three men. As such, I had three fathers. After her death, I was raised by one of the greatest doctors, the richest man in Theala, and an award-winning actor. For 13 years, I was showered with overwhelming adoration. That was until three years ago—the day they adopted Erin, an orphan girl. From then on, they began to dote on her. When she accused me of stealing her necklace, they tore my room apart in their search, smashing my most cherished music box in the process. They only felt remorse when they saw me sobbing over the shards. As compensation, they bought me every music box they could find. When she claimed I mocked her for being an orphan, they forced me to write a hundred apology letters as punishment. They only massaged my hands in remorse upon seeing them trembling so badly that I could no longer feed myself. When Erin accused me of shredding her gown, they locked me in the dark basement, starving me for three whole days. When I was let out, they were filled with remorse upon realizing how much weight I had lost. Their bloodshot eyes watched over the grand feast they prepared as an apology. All of that lasted until Erin poisoned my cup of water. I kept coughing up blood as my body grew weaker by the day. Daniel only diagnosed me with malnutrition and made me take prescribed supplements. Unbeknownst to him, those supplements only hastened the poison's effects. After I collapsed at school, I went to the hospital for treatment. "You only have three days left to live," the doctor said. Why then… Why did my fathers drown themselves in sorrow and kill Erin after my death?

Alexa doesn't know about the existence of the supernatural creatures, she only knew they existed in folklore. She was born in the human world, grew up as a human and has adapted to the human life, her family showered her with great love and utmost care. Her parents are travelers, travelling all over the world to experience different cultures and traditions…at least, that's what they told her. But there's a dirty secret behind them travelling all over, what could this secret be? This secret was unveiled when Alexa was mated to the Werewolf prince. The heir to the Alpha king throne.

When he pulled her into his arms, an intense desire to have this woman burned in him. He loved how her feminine body fit just right in his arms. Her sweet scent drove down his spine and awoke this unusual tingling sensation in him. He knew he needed to control his yearning for her, but couldn't deny himself the privilege to have her in his arms while it lasted. He meant it when he said he needed this woman: he needed more from this woman who had undeniably taken his senses into her heart, and he craved to enjoy this moment: at least, for a while. His grip on her waist tightened as he whispered soothingly into her ear. “I suddenly feel sick. Babysit me tonight.” ****************** Ava's last wish would be: to get married to someone who is involved in illegal businesses, but unfortunately, her last wish became her reality. Things turned out so unexplainable, and she ended up getting married to a stranger: a billionaire mafia lord: Alexander Georgia; despite having feelings for another man. But, what happens when she discovers that the man whom she had feelings for only approached her for business purposes against Alexander? And also… What happens when she realises that the man she calls a stranger, wasn't entirely a, 'stranger,' as they both have a past together. A past that could ruin their future.

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.

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.

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.

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.