Final Fantasy 6 Plot

My sister, Laura Ward, died the year we were ten, the year we snuck out of school to play. From that day forward, my mother’s grief turned into a burning hatred for me, convinced that I was the reason my sister was gone. She treated me like a servant, like an unwanted burden, and filled the void by adopting a perfect, obedient daughter to replace my sister. She took everything from me without a second thought — my rights, my freedom, my very existence — and even demanded that I give up a kidney for her precious adopted girl. Alright, Mother, if you want a life, I’ll give you mine! But it was only when my body lay cold, my breath long gone, that she finally turned and looked at me.

The silver blade sliced across my throat, and I collapsed in a spreading pool of blood. I called Ethan ninety-nine times. My brother ignored every single call, but on the ninety-ninth try, he finally picked up. “What now?” Irritation dripped from every word. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already? I’m in the middle of planning Lyra’s coming-of-age ceremony, and if you don’t show up, I’ll make you regret it.” “Ethan, please—help me—” My voice came out broken and ragged. He hung up. I tried reaching through our blood bond, desperate for him to feel something—anything at all—but he’d severed that connection two years ago. My phone battery was dying, and I watched the last bar flicker before the screen went black. I stopped struggling. The silver blade pierced my heart, and my wolf let out one final whimper before she died with me. Days later, the patrol found a body. The face was destroyed beyond recognition, torn apart and mangled. But Ethan still recognized the scar on the wrist—the one he’d sworn he would never forget.By then, it was too late.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The heart that I had waited two years for was given to the fake heiress, Diane Bishop, by my husband. The doctor said that I only had a week left to live. So, I decided to undergo cryonics. I donated my body to Diane’s workshop. The day I signed the donation papers, my son threw himself into my arms and exclaimed that I had finally made up with Diane. My parents praised me for finally being a good sister to help out Diane. My husband was pleased when he said that I had finally let go of the grudge and had become more understanding. I chuckled. They were right, I had finally learned my lesson. I would give Diane my identity as the heir of Bishop Corporation and fulfill everyone’s wishes.

The last thing Miranda thought when she responded to a prison pen pal request was to find true love. Joel, well, he was only hoping to pass time and maybe if he was lucky, he'd find someone to have a little fun with after doing ten years of hard time in the state penitentiary for a crime he committed when he had just barely turned eighteen years old. He had been hardened by the things he'd seen and the experiences of imprisonment and no longer believed in lovey dovey fairy tales or happily ever after. So hardened in fact, that he knew women only led to one thing-trouble. Not even a good girl like Miranda would break him ever again. Not with her long dark hair, those hypnotizing amber-eyes, and definitely not those full lips that would look so good…nope, nope, nope. What neither one expected was to find the perfect balance of emotional and physical attraction. Can Miranda's persistence and commitment soften and heal Joel's untrusting heart or will Joel break Miranda in ways she has never experienced before? This is the first book of three in the Locked-Up Lovers series. Enjoy!

Sebuah kecelakaan membuatku buta. Karena merasa bersalah, Hanni pindah ke rumahku, ingin merawatku. Namun, sejak dia pindah ke rumahku, ketika aku dan suamiku, Erwin, berhubungan, entah kenapa ritmenya selalu terputus-putus. Setiap kali kami melakukannya, aku bisa mendengar napas orang ketiga di sekitarku. Hingga aku terjatuh dan secara tidak sengaja mendapatkan kembali penglihatanku, aku melihat Erwin berbaring di sampingku, dengan Hanni dalam pelukannya. Hanni melihatku yang 'buta' dengan provokatif, lalu berbisik di telingaku. "Carikan dia satu pria. Dia nggak bisa lihat, jadi kalau main berempat bakal lebih menantang."

After my sister's death, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, Horton Falcone. I became the stepmother to my five-year-old nephew, Luca. On my birthday, I wore my late sister's diamond cross necklace, not realizing what it was. At the family dinner, Luca walked up to me with a glass of red wine and threw the wine in my face. The red wine dripped down my cheeks, its sharp scent stinging my eyes and staining my white dress. He tilted his head back to look up at me, his eyes as cold and cruel as his father's. "Don't think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Falcone family," he said with a malicious grin. "You're the reason she's dead." "I wish you were the one who died. Then I could smash your gravestone instead of celebrating this stupid birthday." "I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I'll do is dump you in the Hudson River myself!" The memory stung as sharply as the wine, and all I could taste was despair. I stared at the child I had spent five years raising as my own, a sharp pain pulsing in my chest. I had thought I could devote myself to the Falcone family, that I could win him over with my love. But now, I was just so tired of it all. It was a family with no love, a child who saw me as his mortal enemy. I stopped deluding myself. It was time to let go. But after I left, that arrogant father and son came crawling back to me like whipped dogs, begging for my forgiveness.

Seven years after my death, an engagement invitation from my ex-girlfriend arrives at my house. Back then, I had broken up with her in my lowest, most desperate days and married someone else. Now, she has reinvented herself as a rising powerhouse worth hundreds of billions, driven by revenge and eager to see me regret everything and beg for mercy. Unfortunately for her, I am not the one who shows up. She looks around in open contempt, convinced my absence means guilt, shame, and fear. When I finally appear, all she sees is an urn.

I fell for Don Lorenzo Moretti the second I saw him. Hard. As a mafia princess, I wasn't supposed to chase anyone. But for him, I swallowed my pride and made him my mission. A year later, he finally had me, pinning me to the bed as he moved inside me. His eyes were pure fire, and in that mo ment, they saw only me. For ten years, we were electric. We fucked in five-star hotels all over the world. We just fit. I was his lucky charm at the poker table. I took shots for him until I bled from my stomach. I even took a bullet for him. Then came our engagement party. Lorenzo left me standing there alone. Said something "came up." I went back to our apartment, only to find him kissing my stepsister, Juliana. That’s when I knew. He had always loved her. I was just a stand-in. He tried to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked rush, promising a bigger, better party to make up for it. A laugh, cold and hollow, died in my throat. I turned my back on him, pulled out my phone, and called my mother in Sicily. "I'll marry into the Romano family."

Je portais le petit de mon compagnon destiné. Le petit de l'Alpha Seth. Mais pendant douze ans, il a refusé de me reconnaître. J'étais son secret. Sa guérisseuse personnelle. Rien de plus. Il n'a même jamais laissé notre fils, Léo, l'appeler 'Papa'. Tout ça parce qu'il détestait que le destin ait choisi une compagne 'impure' comme moi. Il prétendait que je l'avais drogué, que je l'avais piégé avec un enfant. Il a abandonné le Premier Hurlement de notre fils pour une autre femme. Une Bêta puissante nommée Sarah. C'était la goutte d'eau. Je l'ai rejeté. J'ai pris notre fils et je me suis enfuie. On dit que le fier Alpha a perdu la raison. Que la douleur du rejet l'a déchiré, et qu'il nous a traqués comme un fou. Mais il n'y a pas de retour en arrière. Il n'y a pas de pardon.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

“Who the hell changed the screw tolerance by 0.007 mm?” “I did. Is there a problem?” Kimmy Zabel, our department’s “good-luck charm” and full-time slacktivist, did not even look up from her compact mirror, where she was carefully applying lip gloss. “It just didn’t look right, so I tweaked it. Do you really have to yell at me?” The production line had been running on the wrong spec for twenty-four hours. I hit the emergency stop. Keeping my voice steady took some effort. “These parts no longer meet export standards. If we miss tomorrow’s shipment, even a month of overtime wouldn’t cover the penalties.” “It’s one tiny number. You’re being so dramatic!” Kimmy snapped her makeup case shut. “Anyway, it’s New Year’s Eve. I’ve got a date. I’m not staying here to suffer with you people.” Before she even reached the door, I gestured to the staff to pull the shutters down. “For precision components like these, one number translates into a million-dollar loss. You can take these defective units and explain them to the regulators.”