Final Fantasy X Calm Lands Novels & Stories

Edward and I held our engagement party in Las Vegas. Everything seemed perfect—until someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. One of Edward's female coworkers looked me straight in the eye. "I am pregnant. It is your fiancé's baby." Laughter burst out around us. Everyone thought it was a joke—except Edward. After the trip, we returned home. He looked uneasy. "I'm the father of Juliet's baby," he admitted. "Don't overthink it. We were on a business trip and got too drunk with a client. We accidentally spent the night together. "She is from a British aristocratic family. Reputation matters a lot to her. She will never marry me. She only wants to have the baby and raise it alone." "So

Thirty years ago, a progressive rock band called The Yellow Kings began recording what would become their first and final album. Titled “The Final Reconciliation,” the album was expected to usher in a new renaissance of heavy metal, but it was shelved following a tragic concert that left all but one dead. The sole survivor of that horrific incident was the band’s lead guitarist, Aidan Cross, who’s kept silent about the circumstances leading up to that ill-fated performance—until now. For the first time since the tragedy, Aidan has granted an exclusive interview to finally put rumors to rest and address a question that has haunted the music industry for decades: What happened to The Yel

The year I was at rock bottom, I took on three "conquest" missions. Number One was a tech prodigy. Number Two was a genius doctor. Number Three was a top dog in the legal world. Judging by how busy they all were, I thought that with some careful time management, handling all three would be a piece of cake. However, I forgot one thing. Three CEOs meant dealing with three difficult girlfriends. That morning, Number One CEO Eric's childhood sweetheart accused me of stealing her charm bracelet. Eric beat me, yelled at me, and made me stand all day. That afternoon, Number Two's Ron's girlfriend tore into me, figuratively ripping my kidney out. Ron warned me that he had only let me get clos

The day my girlfriend got back together with her first love, I boarded a plane bound for Brindlewood. She told her first love, "Craig was just a fling. I won't have anything to do with him anymore. From now on, I'll only be by your side." Her friends all worried I might cause a scene. But they didn't know—this time, I wasn't going to make a fuss. Before leaving for Brindlewood, I had promised my mentor I'd join his medical research program. In just two weeks, I'd lose all contact with the outside world and dive into a secret project for the next ten years. From that moment on, there would be no ties between me and her anymore.

Synopsis: Not all betrayals should lead you nowhere. Max, my fiance, abandoned me on the red carpet, approached my claimed younger sister Fiona, and escorted her to the priest right in front of my eyes. In the end, he married her with the blessing of my parents. It's really hilarious how these people encouraged me to marry him. If that wasn't tragic enough, Fiona then splashed filthy water all over my beautiful wedding gown. I had no royal roots as the daughter of a prostitute, so I didn't argue or fight since I knew it would never end. But they all seem to forget one thing: a diamond was just an ordinary stone until a polisher revealed its worth. Life couldn't have treated me bet

While Alpha Leon danced with his assistant on the dance floor, I sipped wine with clients. To avoid offending anyone, I let his intoxicated self brush his cold hand against my thigh. Still, Leon never glanced at me. His attention was entirely on helping the assistant brush stray hair from her forehead, softly asking if she was hungry. When the banquet ended, the assistant complained of boredom, and Leon immediately whisked her away, leaving me behind for the next round of festivities. “The young shewolf’s been busy with work lately. I’m just taking her to relax. “You don’t like bars, so don’t follow us. “Also, I won’t be back tonight. We’ll postpone tomorrow’s marking to another day.”

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

On the tenth day after I perished in the avalanche, my husband finally remembered me. His first love was suffering from aplastic anemia and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant—one that only I could provide. He came home holding a donation consent form, ready for me to sign, only to find the house empty. Kelly leaned weakly against him. "Vanessa must really hate me. She doesn't want to donate her bone marrow, so she ran away on purpose, didn't she?" "Maybe we should just forget it," she sighed. "I can hold on a little longer." Caden gently comforted her, his heart aching. "I won't let anything happen to you." "It's just a bone marrow donation. It's not like she'll die from it." Th

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Institute—and the only person in the world with real deep-sea rescue experience. When my younger brother's submarine went down and he called for help from 35,000 feet below, I hung up on him. Then, calm and unhurried, I went straight to the police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research data. A few minutes later, my father called, furious. "Your brother's life is hanging by a thread—where the hell are you?! I demand you to get to the site and save him right now, or you won't see a single penny of the family fortune!" I pulled the blanket over myself and said into the phone, perfectly composed, "Busy. Don't bother me—I'm

My wife made me get a vasectomy. Not once, but ninety-nine times. Right before the hundredth operation, the doctor looked at me with pity in his eyes as the anesthesia failed to fully kick in. "Ms. Gibson really knows how to destroy a man," he murmured. "She's put him through ninety-nine vasectomies, then had them reversed—again and again. However, his body's long since broken. There's no chance of children now." "It's probably for her ex. Word is, it's his own brother. The scandals in these wealthy families—unbelievable." Because of a hospital mix-up at birth, my and Jeff Cunningham's fates were exchanged. He grew up with the Cunningham family, while I lived a poor life. Years later,