Fake Death

It all seemed like a naughty prank at first. You know, the 'disappearing' trick lovers usually pull on each other to see who misses the other most? Yes, that was what Katniss thought at first until months passed and still, Noah was absolutely no where to be found.... Witty, beautiful and bubbly. Just a few adjectives to describe Katniss Costello's interesting and charming character. A young lady who had it all; from affluent parents to wealth and popularity to a quite amazing love life she shared with Noah Rogers, her then soon to be husband. Her life seemed to have come to a shattering halt after reality dawned on her that Noah might never return. She barely talked. Barely smiled. Barely went out, always bed ridden, gloomy and depressed. Void of all emotions. Indeed the shadow of her previous self. Her parents took advantage of the absence of her fiance and deemed it fit to have her married off to a proud, rich and arrogant son of their friend. She strongly opposed to the arranged marriage for few wisps of hope that he might return still laid in her heart. It was the motivation and inspiration she had to wait for him and when he does return, she'd still be here...waiting. When the pressure from her parents was getting too tough and unbearable, she wanted to get rid of it all, get rid of the emotional pain, get rid of the weight that was becoming far to heavy to carry. All she wanted was freedom, but there was only one way to do that... That night, underneath the Blue Moon, standing on the deck above the Ballad River where she wanted to end it all, there she met Asher Holden and that was the onset of her rollercoaster love life.

On the day I was kidnapped, my husband was looking after his sick sweetheart. I called him, asking him for help. Yet, he merely replied coldly, "Danica, you are a bad liar." After that, he heartlessly hung up the phone call on me, causing me to get brutally murdered by the kidnappers. I failed to show up as scheduled on the day we agreed to finalize our divorce. He called me in exasperation, only for the phone call to be answered by the police. "Mr. Ferguson, are you a family member of the deceased Danica Reed?"

On the day of my daughter’s dance competition, a madman suddenly charged at her with an iron rod. To protect her, I took dozens of hits, and my arm was brutally broken. My husband, William Zafron, caught the madman on the spot and rushed us to his private hospital. In the hospital room, I woke up from the pain and tried to call for William. Then I overheard the doctor asking him, “Weren’t we just replacing the knee joint? Why did you hurt Ms. Nina and kill Ella?” “Nina only has a broken arm and some wounds. Her injuries aren’t fatal.” William replied, “Ella’s purpose was to be an organ carrier for Sophia’s daughter. Now that she has fulfilled her role, there’s no need for her to live. “After all... Sophia’s daughter is my own child.” That was when I realized that my daughter was just an organ carrier to him. What he did not know was that Sophia’s daughter was not even his.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

I'm an unloved daughter in the family. For me, being beaten and scolded has become a habit, being treated unfairly is no longer a strange thing. When I was eighteen, my twin sister pushed me into bed with a strange man. Five years later, because of her, I was once again traded. "If you want your son back, you have to marry him." With that one quote from my father, I had to replace my twin sister to marry a man I had never met, Marcus Johansen, a billionaire, and CEO of Citus, who was rumored to be unapproachable and tend to be violent. For the sake of my son, I accept. I thought my life would go dark again as the day of the wedding approached. But the unexpected happened, the man who was supposed to be difficult nearby suddenly looked at me affectionately, gently kissed me on the lips, and smiled sweetly. "Found you, from now on, you're my wife" ---- A cold and thoughtful girl with a traumatic past and a sly, humorous, self-loving man who hides behind an arrogant shell. Let's see what happens in their love life. Ernesta: He is my brother-in-law and also my son's father. How can I handle this mess? What should I do now? Marcus: It doesn't matter who she is, I just know she's my wife and the mother of my children. That's enough. Now don't bother me, I have to go coax my wife.

My mate's adoptive sister asked me to go for a walk in the mountain forest and we encountered a sudden flash flood. My mate Nathan, the Alpha of Snow Peak pack, rushed to save us. But because we were both trapped on a breaking tree branch above the raging flood, he could only save one person at a time. To save his physically weak adoptive sister, my mate abandoned me - his Luna who was five months pregnant. I begged him desperately to save me. He watched as the flood waters dragged me under. "Sarah has always been weak since childhood. If we leave her here, she'll die." "Your wolf is strong enough to swim, but Sarah can't swim." But after my death, he went mad.

I make my final phone call to my boyfriend when a murderer is hunting me down. He thinks I'm messing with him and hangs up on me. That destroys the final sliver of hope I have for survival. He's celebrating his childhood friend's birthday when I'm being murdered. Later, as a restorative embalmer, he receives a body to restore. He loses his mind when he restores my shattered skull and realizes the body is mine.

The moisture condensed from the atmosphere that falls visibly in separate drops came unexpectedly. People had no idea that raindrops carry an infected agent, which consists of a nucleic acid molecule in a protein coat and multiplies only within the living of a host. It's like a piece of code that can copy itself and has a negative effect, such as corrupting the system and destroying the mind's rational data. A virus that was so small and infectious that once infected, a person's body became a reservoir of virus particles, causing the infected person to become carnivorous. Every second is crucial. Who will save humanity from the undead army? Will you save the world even if around you is on the verge of death?

Franchetti Xerene Covry - maangas, palaban, astig, at walang inuurungan. She's careless and reckless, lahat na ata ng kalokohan ay alam na niya. Aakalain mong tomboy ito dahil sa paraan ng kaniyang pananamit. But don't underestimate this small thing because she's insanely strong and terrible. Dress her up and she's actually a bad-ass chic. She may live in an apartment but trust me, she can afford to buy islands, perhaps, an entire country. SHE'S THAT WEALTHY. But it was not hers, she said. All those wealth and everything, it was not hers. It was for DEATH.

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.