Eleven Minutes Full

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

Imagine standing in your white dress, 20 minutes to your wedding and your boyfriend of 4 years and supposed soon to be husband walks in and tells you it was all a mistake and he doesn't want to marry you anymore. You're devastated, because everyone is in the hall waiting for you, both the same people that have mocked you for being in a relationship that was heading nowhere; you should have listened to them. Now you run out crying, after begging him in tears to please consider taking you back (I'm such a fool) You're in the garden crying and you meet his hot half brother and you both share his cigarette. Now he has a proposal. To save you from shame and for personal reasons for him; He's asking you marry him. But it doesn't end there, because you never knew that he was in the Mafia, a top ranker at that, and he has obsession issues. He will literally kill anyone he dares to look at you, he will protect you, even take a bullet or two for you, but there's a catch. You must not fall in love with him. Sounds crazy right? Well let's go

La' Frost institute is a premium skating academy known for its peak skaters from high standard backgrounds, Arianne Johnsons who has envied the La' Frost skaters since she came second place in the nationals skating competition, here is sacrifices and money but yet she couldn't make it to the international competitions, then one day on her way to watch the competition live in her best friend house, something terrible happens she meets the almighty Valerie Stones, all time champion on the ice and most of all her lookalike, crying, hurt on her legs and looking like she just escaped something or someone she refuses to go back and Arianna takes her home with her, tomorrow morning she goes to check on her and finds Valerie dead after overdosing herself, she's shocked, scared but quickly a decision is made in minutes as she dials 911 and a decision is made that day Arianna dies and Valerie returns to the academy healthy, and once again she becomes a star dominating the season and being untouchable in all categories the years pass and then there's a twist she gets a text from an unknown number saying "I KNOW YOUR SECRET, ARIANNA"

Sofia Russo dashed into the elevator, running late for work. But as soon as the doors closed, she found herself face-to-face with the notorious mafia don, Luca Greco. Her heart raced as he pulled her closer, his smoldering gaze sending shivers down her spine. Suddenly, he whispered in her ear, "Two minutes before the elevator stops. Enough time for a quickie." Sofia was taken aback, disgusted by his brazen proposition. She tried to push him away, but he was too powerful. “Disgusting” she blurted. "Sofia Russo," the words rolled off the tongue of the infamous mafia don, Luca Greco, as he pulled her closer, his smoldering gaze locked onto hers. "Ex-husband Tony Moretti. Has a seven-year-old daughter, Isabella." Sofia's heart raced as she realized this man knew more about her than she'd ever imagined. "Give me a chance, sweetheart," Luca demanded, his voice silky smooth. "Let me take care of you and your princess." Sofia was lost in the intensity of his gaze, but she knew better than to fall for a man like him. She'd been burned before and had no intention of repeating the same mistake.

Cesare Xandri, the rising gangster of the Nalitan mafia, unexpectedly lost a bet at an elite private casino in Ithel, the kind that smells like cigar smoke and blood money. The penalty was simple, he had to call his hard-to-tame pet. The phone was on speaker. The men circled him, whistling and hooting, waiting to be entertained. He asked what I was up to in a relaxed and amused tone. I replied softly, insinuating he was sinful, hiding my defiance behind innocence and fake devotion. When I finished my insult, the room fell silent, then burst into loud and uncontrollable laughter. The call ended. Less than thirty minutes later, the mansion gates were smashed open. He stormed in smelling of gunpowder, a Beretta still in his hand. He pushed me against the wall furiously beneath the Virgin Mary statue. I leaned into him without hesitation, fingers brushing the heated gun, and I met his gaze without fear. I chose virtue and rejected him in my past life, in return I was thrown into the open sea to die. I intended to be his temptation when I got a second chance at life, I wanted to be a beautiful sin that ends his story under the Cecilian sun.

« Mademoiselle Lebrun, nous avions suivi vos instructions à la lettre : le corps ‘mort' vous ressemblait en tous points. Nous devions le livrer dans dix jours, directement sur le lieu de votre mariage avec Monsieur Humbert. » Au bout du fil, la voix calme de l'employé procurait enfin un peu de répit à Doriane Lebrun, dont les nerfs étaient à vif depuis des semaines. « Parfait, je vous remercie », répondait-elle. « Tout est en ordre, rassurez-vous. Aucune suspicion n'est possible : l'identification sera indiscutable. » Doriane sentait alors son souffle lui revenir, comme si un poids immense se soulevait. Elle prenait encore quelques minutes pour confirmer les derniers détails de l'opération avant de raccrocher. Puis, recomposant son masque de sérénité, elle franchissait la porte de la loge privée. À l'intérieur, les rires et les conversations s'éteignaient instantanément à son entrée, comme coupés au couteau.

Alice Warren was the daughter of two famous murderers. Her fate, which was full of bad luck, finally met its end when the Le Blancs adopted her. The Le Blancs were good and kind people; they helped the poor, donated to charities, and built an organization for the orphans called UNITY. Alice was already contented with her life, but all of her beliefs and luck crumbled down when she entered Saint Clair Academy, and the series of accidents and deaths started again. Of course, it did not help that an irritating genius artist, Thomas Saint Clair, was always at her tail. Now that the number of dead bodies increased, Alice had to investigate whether the accidents were just lousy luck full of coincidence or carefully planned-out murders.

Amelia never believed in the legends whispered about the forest. Until one night, beneath the full moon, her eyes met his—eyes that burned gold and promised danger. Shadow isn’t human. But he isn’t a monster, either. He is something ancient. Exiled. Desired. Cursed. He warned her: “I’m a problem you don’t need.” But she had already chosen him. And now… there’s no turning back. In a world where secrets breathe beneath the skin and packs don’t forgive weakness, Amelia and Shadow are fated to burn. Between howls, stolen kisses, and wars whispered in the dark, a forbidden bond awakens—a pull as fierce as it is fatal. A romance as wild as the full moon. A passion that could save them… or consume them both.

When Ivy Yarley learned that Jason Hough had been in an accident due to speeding and lost a massive amount of blood, she rushed to the hospital without hesitation and donated a full liter of blood for him. His friends all urged her to go home and get some rest. Reluctantly, she agreed, but the moment she reached the exit, worry hung heavily in her heart, so she turned back. That was when she saw the nurse dumping all five full bags of blood that had just been drawn from her into the trash can. Before she could even process what was happening, a burst of laughter erupted from a nearby room. "Hahaha! That idiot Ivy Yarley fell for it again!"

My name is Ivy Lawson. At 3:00 am, I get a call from Christina McSpire, a parent of one of my students. "Hello, Ms. Lawson, I noticed Zoe only spent five dollars on her meal yesterday. Did she not eat any meat?" she asks. Pushing through my exhaustion, I reply, "Don't worry, Mrs. Street. I'll check on it tomorrow." Another half hour goes by, and she calls again. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow. Can you remind Zoe to bring an umbrella?" I can hardly keep my eyes open. "Got it," I reply absentmindedly. A few minutes later, my phone rings once more. "Please make sure Zoe brushes her teeth for three minutes. It's also important that she scrubs each side of her face at least three times." Suppressing my frustration, I calmly respond, "Zoe is in her senior year of high school. I'm sure she's capable of taking care of herself." I expect that to be the end of it, but when I wake up, my silenced phone shows over a hundred missed calls.