Does Bella Die In Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2

Loque Bella is a waitress who is transported back into time to a kingdom called Hampshen; where she finds herself the youngest of a farmer's four daughters and set to marry the queen's son Prince Callum, but there is so much more to her life than just that and it all begins to unfold when on her wedding day a fayagan, the most feared creature in all the kingdoms, crashes the event and kidnaps her.

Emilia Rutherford thought she left her haunted past behind, until a car crash, a cryptic warning, and a bloody trail bring it roaring back. Now, in a town that feels too quiet and eyes that watch too closely, she’s pulled into a world she never knew existed. Shifters. Blood feuds. Secrets buried under generations of silence. Asher, the quiet farmhand with eyes like gold, knows more than he says. And Victor... the ruthless Alpha with a claim on Emilia’s soul will stop at nothing to make her his. But fate has its own plans. And Emilia may be the key to unraveling everything. When destiny collides with survival, only one truth remains: THE ALPHA MUST DIE!

Julian Ashford, the golden boy of the city's elite, had his left leg broken by his father with a golf club -- all because of me, a scholarship student. He was stripped of his billion-dollar inheritance and cast out of the family. For three years, he dragged that ruined leg around an auto repair shop, doing backbreaking labor just to scrape together enough for my college tuition. Everyone said I was the luckiest girl alive -- that I'd brought the untouchable heir of a financial empire to his knees, made him willing to live on scraps in the worst part of town. Today was our three-year anniversary. I was carrying the freshly signed Holloway Group inheritance confirmation documents, ready to finally tell him my real identity and pull him out of this misery. I walked down the corridor of The Grand Pavilion, holding a box of vanilla shortbread -- his favorite. Through the half-open door of a private suite, Julian Ashford stood tall on two perfectly healthy legs, dressed in an immaculate tailored suit, sliding a rare pink diamond ring onto the finger of Victoria Sterling -- the city's most celebrated socialite. "Victoria, I used that scholarship girl as a shield to survive three years of my old man's relentless arranged marriage schemes. My body's completely untouched. You've always been the one I was going to marry." I looked down at my own hands, cracked and raw from the cold, and tore the inheritance documents to shreds.

“No! Please, Santiago--” I whimpered, as his hand seized my wrist with an iron grip, yanking me forward, dragging me effortlessly toward the chair he had pulled into the center of the room the night before. The symbol of my humiliation. He stopped right in front of the chair, spinning me around, facing him. "You want me to be your monster, mi ángel?" His hand grabbed my throat, tilting my chin up until my eyes locked with his dark gaze. I flinched from the sudden movement. "Cause I’ll be your favorite monster — just say the word, cariño." Santiago’s face hovered only inches from mine. His lips so close, I could taste the sweetness of his breath — once making butterflies take flight in my stomach, now curdling my insides into a cold, suffocating fear. Slowly, his free hand rose toward my face. I held my breath. His touch was deceptively soft and gentle, caressing my cheek. His thumb lingered against my lips, tracing them slowly, his eyes fixed there as he spoke — his voice soft, yet heavy with menace. "Divorce is not an option, mi amor. We took a vow five years ago. Remember?" He finally lifted his gaze to meet mine, catching every flicker of fear before he delivered his last words like a verdict: "Till death do us part."

"I want the kids." He paused for a brief second. "And, I want you." ~~ Zelda Romero's life takes a turn, when she got pregnant due to a one night stand, with her parents kicking her out of the house. She cares for her children, all by herself with no problem, until when she's promoted as an head-chef, and forced to move to another country. It goes well at first, but then, she meets the completely handsome Nicholas Hart, who would bet his all to have her. Wil fate let them be together? Or will her dark past close her heart to love no one? Fine out in this love-hate relationship.

Jaden Baker has had only one love in his life, Delilah. She was actually more than that, she was his routine, his ritual, his sanity frankly his bane of existence. He is resigned to a life of solitude and the occasional hook ups. That is until his father gives him a month to get married. He is still thinking of a loop hole to avoid marriage all together when he sees her. From that distance, at that angle she looks like his Delilah. He can't let her walk away. But as innocent as she seems this look alike has secrets that might end up being his downfall or his salvation.

Orlando and I had been together for ten years. I'd looked after his sick mom, sweating out a fever of my own, and where was he? Knocking back drinks with Rosalind, playing therapist to her broken heart. I swallowed my pride at work, getting chewed out by my boss, while he spent the night companying Rosalind because she had cramps. Then, when I got the news my mom had passed, I tried calling him, desperate for support. But nope—phone off. After a wild goose chase, turns out he was at Rosalind's graduation. That was it. I gave up. But Orlando wouldn't let go. Red-eyed, he begged me for just one more chance.

Sohla Kim has everything you could want in life. Born rich and smart, to a family that has status, money, and power, while dominating the investment world. A pre-set betrothment to her childhood best friend, Jyeon Park. The handsome, equally wealthy, and smart, future heir of OLO, their joint family company. An unbreakable bond between two families, a future that looks bright and rosy. Only the perfect picture is only that, and ten years on, alone, holding her head above water, in a loveless marriage laced with tragedy, her entire world is turned upside down. Everything she thought she had and knew comes crashing down one fateful night. New waters, new faces, and a denial of the past will bring her back full circle to really question everything she was born for. Was it always about money? Was she always a tool to elevate Jyeon to higher levels? Did none of them really love her?

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.