Dog Suicide Bridge

May Austin is left to care for her sick younger sister, Lily. Struggling to afford Lily’s medical treatment, May signs a surrogacy contract with the powerful Stones family, agreeing to bear a child for Damien Stone, the ruthless and handsome CEO. The procedure is impersonal—they never meet, and Damien only glimpses her in dimly lit rooms. May gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The family takes the boy, leaving May to flee with her daughter and sister, disappearing abroad to build a new life. For five years, she raises her daughter Aria while Lily grows healthy and excels academically. Their paths cross unexpectedly at an airport when Aria bumps into Damien. He feels an instant, inexplicable attachment to the girl, unaware she is his daughter. Sparks fly as Damien encounters May professionally when she returns as a director at his company. Attraction, tension, and unresolved pasts begin to surface. Meanwhile, their children play a pivotal role in reconnecting their parents. Damien’s grandfather, Daxton Stone, disapproves due to class differences and manipulates circumstances to challenge May and Damien, while Damien’s parents wholeheartedly support May. Corporate intrigue, sabotage, and a vindictive fiancée create further tension, especially as May’s son, Aiden, suffers domestic abuse and entrusts May to protect him. Alongside a parallel romance between Damien’s boyfriend, David, and May’s best friend, the story weaves love, resilience, and family into a gripping tapestry. As truths emerge and past grievances confront them, Damien and May must navigate threats, heal old wounds, and embrace the family destiny they never imagined. One Pregnancy, Two Babies is a story of love, sacrifice, second chances, and the unbreakable bonds of family, where children are the bridge that reconnects hearts separated by fate.

Gilbert Pierce, my wife's male trainee, bragged that he could disarm a bomb just by relying on his senses and with his eyes closed. However, he misjudged it and triggered the bomb's secondary detonation sequence. I stepped in at the last second and used the most dangerous method available, liquid nitrogen flash cooling, to save the entire building. Gilbert was pulled off frontline duty and placed on suspension for review. My wife, Jasmine Clem, tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her cold. "If you defend him now, you won't save him. You'll just get dragged down and suspended alongside him." Unable to handle the pressure, Gilbert blew himself up in an accident. In his suicide note, he accused Jasmine of choosing self-preservation when he needed her most. Jasmine said nothing. She only locked that letter away in her study. Years later, Jasmine became a nationally renowned bomb disposal expert. During a terrorist attack, I was captured and strapped with a timed explosive. Jasmine came to the scene personally to defuse it, but right in front of me, she repeated the exact same mistake her trainee had made years ago. She watched the countdown and smiled lightly at me. "See? He was just nervous back then. If I had encouraged him, he'd be a hero now." The bomb detonated, and I was blown apart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment she was about to defend Gilbert. She didn't know that inside that building sat the nation's most classified core servers.

When my husband told me to go bungee jumping, I did not scream. I did not cause a scene. I just nodded and said, "Okay." Keep in mind, I was eight months pregnant. I only agreed because I had already lived through this nightmare once before. In my past life, his precious childhood best friend, Lily Lane, had been feeling down. My husband, desperate to be her hero, told her he would make her one wish come true. Her wish? She wanted a partner to go bungee jumping with. My husband was terrified of heights, so he could not do it himself. Instead, he volunteered me. I refused on the spot, obviously. I told them I was not going to strap a harness over a baby bump and jump off a bridge. Lily got upset because I would not go. She went to a bar to drown her sorrows, and things went terribly wrong. Someone spiked her drink, and she was assaulted. She could not handle the trauma. She left a suicide note for my husband that read: "If I hadn't gone to the bar that night, would everything be different?" When my husband read that note, he snapped. He wrapped his hands around my throat. "Why didn't you just go with her?" he screamed, squeezing tighter. "Would it have killed you to just say yes?" He strangled me until everything went black. My unborn baby died with me. However, then, my eyes snapped open. I was back. I was standing right there in the moment my husband was asking me to jump.

What is obsession? Am I obsessed? At first, I was just his substitute, then I became his real bride, then the supposed real bride returned, and I was kidnapped, tortured, and forced to divorce. Then I committed suicide because I couldn’t handle it, but I didn’t fucking die. Then I became a stalker of my ex-husband, who barely remembers me because I was declared dead by the world, and my face got melted down when acid was poured on me. I had a surgery that changed my whole face and my entire identity. Then I started working for him again and he fell in love with the new me, yet still traumatized by the old me, so I had to reveal to him that I was the same person. He was happy and relieved, but the world wasn’t. We were chewed on, spat out, and stepped on. Then he was fired from his company by his grandmother, who adopted a new son to take over the company. Then I was kidnapped again, and bombs were planted on me. We were able to defuse the bomb and escape. Then we were shot in the head by God knows who. His surgery was successful, but mine wasn’t, so I forgot everything about him and was forbidden to remember because a damn bullet is stuck in my head that could kill me if it moves to a sensitive part of my brain. Then suddenly, he was on the TV, framed for murder. I couldn’t hold back, I found myself in prison fighting for him with a gun in my hand, and somehow ended up in a coma, because the damn bullet in my head shifted… to the wrong direction. Then, in between this chaos, the doctor announced I-was-pregnant.

In my previous life, my brother took his sugarbaby to see a meteor shower because she said she wanted to. He drove to the countryside with all his bodyguards to create a perfect stargazing night for her. Unfortunately, business rivals whom my brother had bankrupted saw this opportunity and broke into our estate seeking revenge. My mother fought desperately to protect me, suffering severe injuries that left her fighting for her life. I called my brother repeatedly, begging him to return quickly and help us. He finally had to come back with his security team. The intruders were captured, but then terrible news came from the countryside. His sugarbaby had left a suicide note, her fate unknown. In her letter, she accused me of deliberately drawing my brother away, causing her to be tortured by his enemies before she took her own life. My brother coldly burned her letter and told me not to worry about it. Afterward, my brother was blamed for what happened, and my father promised to put me in charge of the company. However, after the celebration dinner ended, my brother brutally murdered me in my bedroom. His face showed no emotion as he coldly said, "Someone as treacherous as you should have died long ago. "You should have been the one to die, and the family inheritance should have been mine!" I died with my eyes wide open in disbelief, and when I opened them again, I could hear our enemies breaking down the front door of our mansion.

On the night of our engagement, the ward my family sponsored left without a word. She went alone to the Mexican border, a lawless land crawling with cartels, to become a combat medic. From then on, Dante and I tortured each other for ten years. He hated me for trapping him with my birthright as the heir, stealing the spot of the woman he loved. I hated him for humiliating me while still craving the power and wealth the Moretti family provided. In countless fights, we spewed the most vicious curses at each other. Until that raid on the underwater sanctuary. The base was rigged to blow and sinking fast. Dante didn't hesitate. He strapped the only oxygen mask onto my face and turned to jump into the swarm of sharks. He slit his own wrist, using his blood to lure the predators away. Moments before the sea swallowed him, he roared at me: “I don't owe you anything anymore, Sophia!” “If there's a next life, please, let me go!” After I was rescued, the family only recovered his mangled remains. Clutched in his palm was that charity case's cross necklace. That was when I learned Elena had died from a stray bullet years ago. And he, in the end, chose this brutal suicide to join her. Dante's death shook the entire Underworld. The family Elders took their anger out on me. I was accused of being a "Black Widow" who sent her husband to his death to save herself. I was beaten to death by a mob of angry thugs on the street. When I opened my eyes again, I stopped my father. This time, I’ll let them have their epic love story.

Doctor Catherine Ross is a surgeon on the rise. She is well liked by her colleagues and loves her job at the emergency department of a major hospital in the city. She has the heart in the right place and would do anything to save a life. But her confidence is only related to her occupation. When it comes to romantic relationships she is severely lacking. Her too full curves and being a bookworm has led to bullying and low self esteem. Alessio Peccati is a handsome bachelor on the outside and heartless mafia boss on the inside. He would never give up a chance to torture and harm a person who has done him injustice. He looks good and knows it. A new woman on his arm every week, all of them slim, made up, fake and perfect. Perfect for an official outing. Perfecty submissive for a few nights of hard fucking. But too fake to keep. When a member of his family is shot in a deserted parking lot and Catherine is nearby, she doesn’t hesitate to help. What she doesn’t know is that if you mix with the mafia, there is only one way out, by death. Now she is a captive of the Peccati family and forced to work as a doctor and a surgeon for the man holding her captive. Soon Alessio finds he has more interest in the confident and independent doctor than just business related. He has never wanted a woman like he wants Catherine. How will Catherine find her new life? Will she ever be free from her captivity? Will she ever want to be free? For a mature audience only! This book contains explicit content with violence, murder, torture, psycological abuse, depression, suicide attempt, rape, noncunsensual and forced sex.

What’s worse than catching your boyfriend cheating? Falling into bed with a billionaire to get revenge… and ending up pregnant. ***** Daphne thought the worst part of her week was walking in on her boyfriend tangled up with someone else. she was wrong. The real humiliation? Facing them both the very next day at her art exhibition—with the other woman on his arm. As if curating the biggest show of her career wasn’t stressful enough, now she’s stuck smiling through the pain while her ex flaunts betrayal in front of billionaires and buyers who could make or break her future. But when her ex gets a little too smug, and the crowd watches a little too closely, Daphne makes a snap decision. She grabs the nearest man. Kisses him like she means it. And pretends she didn’t just burn every bridge behind her. Only… the man she uses to deliver her revenge? He’s pasha. Reclusive billionaire. Art-world kingmaker. And the man about to drop five million dollars at the auction. One night with him was supposed to be reckless and forgettable. It turns out to be unforgettable—for all the wrong reasons. Because weeks later, Daphne’s world tilts again. She’s pregnant. And the baby’s father is a man who’s never let anyone close… and isn’t used to losing control. Now she’s caught in a dangerous game of secrets, desire, and consequences—where love was never part of the plan, but fate has other ideas. And the closer Pasha gets, the harder it becomes to remember who used who first. He gave her one night. She gave him an heir. But what happens when the fallout costs more than they’re both willing to pay?

Emily Carter was the quiet girl no one noticed. She lived in the shadows, buried in books, dreaming of love she thought she would never have. Then Ayden Cole, the golden boy of her college, made her believe she finally mattered. He made her laugh, made her dream, made her fall. But it was all a lie. A cruel bet. A game to humiliate her in front of the world. One night of betrayal destroyed Emily. One fall from the bridge should have ended her story. But fate had other plans. She was saved by Jaxon Reed, a dangerous biker with secrets in his eyes. She was remade by Victor Blackwood, the ruthless mafia king who ruled the city with fear and fire. “You can die as Emily Hart… or be reborn as someone no one dares to touch...” Victor told her, and she chose rebirth, when Emily looked in the mirror again, she was no longer Emily Carter. She was Scarlett. Bold. Beautiful. Untouchable. Back on campus, no one knows who she really is. Not Ayden, who suddenly wants the girl he cannot have. Not Kelsey, the ex-bully who feels her crown slipping. But Jaxon—the man who saved her, knows, and so does Victor: cold, powerful, twice her age. He should have stayed away, but the more he tries to resist her, the more he burns. Scarlett came back for revenge, but the game is no longer simple. Desire is dangerous. Enemies circle closer. Love feels like a loaded gun in the wrong hands. And in the end, Scarlett must choose, between the boy who broke her, the biker who saved her, and the mafia king who might destroy her heart… But what if the real danger is not losing herself to revenge, but to love, or maybe desire?

I no longer deliver meals to my husband, Zachary Smith—the man who became the factory manager after receiving a scholarship that brought him to the city—since my rebirth. I even make sure to detour using the gate at the factory's north side whenever he uses the southern gate after he finishes his meetings. In my past life, I was fully aware he took me as his wife—a humble country woman—just for the chance to move to the city. Yet, I insisted on becoming his wife, anyway. After all, I was convinced that a person's true affections could be earned and nurtured. Yet, Zachary maintained a constant, formal distance throughout our marriage. He would simply offer me a book the moment I attempted to bridge the gap, saying, "You should study more so that you don't continually attract people's contempt." I got emboldened by the drink as I threw my arms around him, yet he merely accepted the embrace rigidly, whispering, "It's just what married couples do." It wasn't until decades later, as I lay on my deathbed, that I discovered the heartbreaking words in his autobiography. In it, he stated that our entire marriage was like being trapped in a mire and that he never wanted to be with me again if he were to ever be reborn. I felt a searing pain tearing through my heart as I closed my eyes in devastating anguish. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the point in time when the gossip about Zachary and Juliana Ziegler, the factory's technician who studied abroad, first began to spread. In this life, I choose not to fight or cause drama. Instead, I am the one who brings up the divorce.