Eric And Aaron The Walking Dead

Issabella Aditya tidak pernah menyangka jika dia akan menikah dengan sosok yang paling menyebalkan yang pernah dia kenal. Sosok yang bernama Aaron Revaldi, pria yang suka sekali berperilaku usil padanya dan membuatnya kesal. Yang lebih mengejutkan lagi, ternyata pria itu menyimpan banyak sekali rahasia di dalam dirinya. Rahasia yang membuat Bella mau tidak mau jatuh lagi dan lagi pada pesona pria tersebut. Lalu bagaimanakah kisah cinta keduanya? Dapatkah Bella bertahan pada godaan yang diberikan Aaron kepadanya?

Shadows are only created when there is a source of light. And so Bernadette Wood is the only source of her own happiness. She liked everything. However, there was something unexpected that happened. Someone appeared in her life–the CEO of the company she's working at – Eric Asterio. Eric, an opposite of Bernadette, he's the usual ideal type of a man. He's considered as a badass, a heartbreaker and a badboy. But, deep inside, he was also just a lonely man searching for love. He was the only man that could pull her up from the depths of her sorrow caused by her ex-boyfriend, Justin. Bernadette knew that the moment they saw each other in the conference room, she already fell for him. From his sinewy and picturesque body and, to his personality. He's cold but not so stern towards his people.She was shocked and her feelings was incomparable when Eric confessed to her. Eric showed his lovely side the moment they were official. A very kind, caring, lovely man and his undefiled love.Their relationship was always the talked of the town. Everyone also desires that which they will find a boyfriend like him and a girlfriend like her. The position between the CEO's and employee did not hinder their love towards each other because everyone knows Bernadette's status that apart from being beautiful, they are also one of the richest family.Everything went well. The fastest the days passed, the deepest their feeling was.But what will happen to her if he will fades away? Worse thing is in both situations and gatherings wherein Justin's left her. Will she drown in sorrow again? Or Will she fade also?

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

"How do you plead to the death of your mate, Eric?" The Judge's calm voice pierced through my healing heart. I am barely recovering from the trauma of the death of my mate, Eric and they have to do this to me? I wish I wasn't cursed. I wished my mates haven't been dying over the years. Maybe I would have gotten the peaceful life I desired but there was nothing to be done. "Not guilty!" ~~~~~~~~~~~ After losing four mates to the cold hands of death in the past two years, my Pack saw me as a curse and my fate was buried in one word. DEATH!

Lisa Ravenwing is the daughter of the Beta of the Moonstrider Pack as a Beta's daughter she should be loved and respected by the pack but instead she is abused and bullied because the pack thinks she's wolfless little do they know that she does have a wolf but when she turns 18 and finds her mate the future Alpha Eric Moonstrider and he rejects her she leaves and builds her own pack what happens when her old pack requests her new packs aid and they see her will Eric want her back and will she even take him back or will she find someone else

(Book is paused for now) "Run, and they suffer." That was the first thing Aaron Maxwell told her the day she tried to escape. Leilani Lane never wanted him. Never wanted the contract that chained her to a stranger, a man with ice in his voice, fire in his storm-grey eyes, and vengeance in his heart. Her ex-husband sold her like property. Aaron bought her like a prize...for revenge.  He makes the rules. She breaks them. He punishes everyone but her. And somewhere between the cruelty, the control, and the dangerous pull of his touch… she starts to wonder: Is she fighting him....or falling for him? Trigger Warning: This is a dark romance novel and contains scenes of domestic abuse and mature themes. ​

After three years of union, Valerie was finally pregnant with the heir to the Alpha of the Black Shadow Pack. But on their anniversary, Aaron Garth's first love returned. When he demanded to break off their mate bond, Valerie didn't hesitate. She signed the papers, turned away, tore the pregnancy report into pieces, and vanished. Until one day, a chance meeting in a hospital corridor brought them face-to-face. Aaron's control shattered at the sight of her rounded belly. He seized her wrist, his voice a hoarse, desperate growl. "Whose pup is that?" Valerie wrenched her arm free, her gaze icy. "That's none of your business. You're no longer my mate."

Geschieden und wieder verheiratet – ich habe den Überblick verloren, wie oft Aaron und ich in die Ehe ein- und wieder austraten. Er behandelte mich einst wie etwas Kostbares, doch noch kein Jahr nach der Hochzeit beantragte er unsere erste Scheidung. Der Grund war einfach: Vivian kam zurück. „Vivian ist eine Person des öffentlichen Lebens“, erklärte er. „Ich will nicht, dass jemand annimmt, sie würde sich mit einem Verheirateten einlassen.“ Diese Schauspielerin der dritten Garde hatte nichts vorzuweisen außer dem Opfer ihres Vaters. Er hatte für Aaron eine Kugel aufgefangen – ein Leben für ein Leben. Und deshalb glaubte Aaron, er schulde ihr alles. Immer wenn Vivian zurückkehrte, reichte Aaron die Scheidung ein. Und jedes Mal, wenn sie ging, heirateten wir wieder. Beim ersten Mal, als wir uns trennten, ertränkte ich meinen Kummer in Whiskey und torkelte halb betrunken zu seinem Haus. Drinnen warf das Licht einen warmen Schein. Er war bei ihr. Und ich stand draußen und zitterte die ganze Nacht. Beim zweiten Mal verfolgte ich jeden seiner Schritte – Restaurants, Auktionen, Wohltätigkeitsgalas – nur um „zufällig“ wieder auf ihn zu treffen. Mit der Zeit lernte ich dazu. Sobald er das Wort Scheidung erwähnte, packte ich leise meinen Koffer und verschwand aus seiner Villa. Meine Liebe und meine Demütigung hielten mich in diesem endlosen Kreislauf aus Trennung und Wiederzusammenkommen gefangen. Aber diesmal, als Aaron im Standesamt auf mich wartete, um wieder zu heiraten, kam ich nicht.

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

My husband of five years, Eric Vale, came home drunk again. As I laid him in our bed, he murmured, “Don’t worry, my love… I’ll take care of you and our baby.” My heart stopped. Baby? We’d been on birth control since the day we married. There was no baby. I shook him lightly. “What are you talking about, Eric?” He blinked at me, confused, then smiled like nothing had happened. “Hey, babe… did I say something?” The next morning, I checked our joint account. Every month, ten thousand dollars had been wired to a woman named Bella Evers. Yesterday, he sent two hundred thousand more—with a note: I can’t wait for our baby to be born. Bella was Eric’s mistress and was now six months pregnant. So I made one call. “Papa,” I told the most feared Don in the South, “I’m getting a divorce.” I glanced at my sleeping husband. “I want him gone. And I want him broke.”