Novel & Cerita Eat For Life

Serena Sinclair is the most attractive she-wolf in the Mystic Moon pack. Many wolves are head over heels in love with her. But when she's about to become Alpha Caspian Lockwood's Luna, the video of her wild and loose side in bed gets sent to every wolf's phone in the pack. She falls from grace immediately. Not only is she demoted to the status of an Omega and has lost her right to become the Luna, but the wolves who were once respectful to her keep humiliating her as well. They even run all the way to the Sinclair residence just so they can pelt her with more curses and slurs. Serena runs off to look for Caspian, consequences be damned. After all, he's the only one who has those videos in his phone. But the moment she arrives outside his house, she overhears his subordinates' voices. "This way, Serena will never become your Luna, Alpha Caspian. She can only watch as you mark Aurelia as your mate." "Serves her right, honestly. She's the one who's been shamelessly clinging to the Alpha's side. She has no idea how much the Alpha loathes her. In order to avoid touching her, he often cleanses the scent every night before telling his younger brother, Forrest, to sleep with her and record those racy videos." "If she finds out that her lover's younger brother is the one whom she's been sleeping with all these years, will she die of an aneurysm on the spot? Ahahaha!" Serena's wolf keeps howling in her mind. She can only cover her ears as she flees away from the Lockwood residence. The last shred of hope is already gone. After that, she goes through the procedures of leaving the Mystic Moon pack once and for all. But when she's truly gone, why is it that everyone sinks to their knees and begs her to return to them?

After living under the same roof with his in-laws for four devastating years, Zayn Larson finally realized who it was that made all his sacrifices worthwhile. One day he would return the top, and none would stand in his way. It was all because he had his true love who wanted to lay in his arms beneath the sparkling sky.

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

To ransom my husband from the black market, I threw myself into relentless work, earning every penny I could. My son suffered alongside me, sharing in my exhaustion and deprivation. Years of malnutrition had left him vulnerable, and eventually, he was diagnosed with leukemia. I wept as I scraped together money from relatives and friends to pay for his chemotherapy. But on the way to the hospital, a sudden, unbearable pain wracked him. In his struggle, he accidentally bit off his own tongue and died in agony before we even reached the doors. I clutched my son's ashes and went straight to the black market, determined to use the borrowed money to bring my husband back. The moment I stepped in, I overheard a conversation between Joe Masseria and his men. "Boss, Sandra comes every month with her payments. She's suffered a lot just to ransom you," one said. At that moment, a widow—Joe's sister-in-law, long mourning her late husband—appeared beside him. "Joe," she said, her voice calm but cutting, "all these years, you've protected me from harm, even giving me the title of a mob boss's wife. But you've kept Sandra in the dark the whole time. Isn't that… terribly unfair to her?" Joe's eyes were cold, devoid of any pity for me. He scoffed. "Fairness is ruthless. She's had all this love from me. What's a little suffering compared to that? "But she's waited for me all these years. It's time I returned—before she loses her mind and comes after you. "If she's still sensible, I'll make sure her and her son's quality of life improves a bit." I understood everything in that instant. Holding my son's ashes to my chest, I wept until it felt as if my heart would shatter. Joe—your so-called fairness killed my son. And I am done waiting for you.

On New Year's Eve, the smell of a roast in the oven drifted through the house. My grandmother walked over to me, with an old photograph in her hand, the edges worn soft with age. "Is Zack almost home?" My throat tightened. It had been three years. She could never remember that my younger brother was long gone. I was the one who picked up his ashes. At that moment, my phone rang. The moment I saw the name on the screen, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I stepped out onto the balcony before answering, keeping my voice low. "What is it?" The voice on the other end of the line trembled. "It's been three years. Are you still angry? I've been waiting for you to come home. Our son has, too. We're downstairs." Downstairs? I walked over and looked down to see a tall figure and a small one standing together. Through my phone, my son's voice came with a catch in his throat, saying, "Daddy…" My thoughts snapped back into place. I said flatly, "We've been divorced for a long time. He said he didn't want to stay with me." Then, I hung up without another word.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

There's an earthquake. I'm trapped underneath the debris with another young woman. "This woman's chest has been pierced by a steel bar. We have to save her immediately." The rescuers start to approach me when my husband, Quintus Ford, suddenly darts in the other direction. "She's pregnant! Save her first!" I look at him to see him staring at the other young woman in panic. He doesn't know I'm pregnant, too. The doctor who's trying to stop my bleeding shouts, "I can't stop her bleeding! I suspect she has a blood clotting disorder!" I force myself to nod and look at Quintus desperately. However, he says, "I'm her husband. I'll bear the responsibility if anything goes wrong."

After an earthquake, my sister and I help to rescue the victims. I save a wealthy woman who adopts me as her daughter. I become the sole heiress to an astronomical fortune. My sister saves a regular person. All she gets as thanks is a few thousand dollars. She thinks life is unfair and drags me to die with her. When I open my eyes again, I'm looking at the debris from the earthquake. This time, my sister rushes to save the wealthy woman. She says smugly, "It's my turn to be a rich heiress!"

Sophia Ivanov Loosing my mother at the age of 16, the only person out of my parents who showered me with love, being left behind with the person who hated me. I always thought it was because I was a girl but he never looked at my baby sister Lucy with the look of disgust on his face. He always had the look of adoration and affection in his eye's whenever he looked at my brother's and Lucy. At he age of 20, my wedding was ambushed by a mafia, my husband killed in between the crossfire and me being rushed to the hospital.Waking up in that hospital I wasn't the same giddy Sophia. I started training, getting better then my brother's. Papa giving me extra attention then my brother's, taking me on mission's with him. Papa never let my brothers go on mission's. That was our father and daughter time. Killing people in cold blood without any remorse. Years went past and my older brother Alessandro died. A nother person I held dearly to my heart being ripped away from me. That same year Papa stepped down as the Don of the Russian mafia, handing the responsibility over to me. Taking the Russian mafia to the next level, continuing papa's legacy but ten times better. I was worse then papa was and people feared me more then papa. I was a Ivanov, this was my destiny but as the years went past, mafia's got fearless because papa got old and they thought papa was still the Don. Mafia's who got bold enough, to threaten my family and my mafia. I took care of them one by one but what I never expected was to find out the truth about my family, about everything I thought I knew my whole life.

The maid's daughter, who grew up in my home, had the nerve to act like an heiress. On her birthday, she invited every kid from school for a full-on rager at my family's villa. When I suggested they take it to a hotel, she lost it. "You don't get to tell me what to do! My friends can party wherever they want!" She added, "The ten-layer cake my parents ordered for me is on the way. Why don't you park yourself by the door and wait for it, huh?" Her crew circled up, laughing and pointing at me. But I'd lived through this before. Nothing about her little act rattled me. I turned to the butler and told him to lock the gate. Then, I went to Rambo's cage. "Hey, buddy," I said, opening it up. "See those trespassers?" I pointed at the crowd. "I'm counting to three. If they're still here, don't let a single one get away."