Flat Asian Face

A nordic sentiment that catches fire briskly! "You and I are comparative, don't you be aware? In the midst of the foxes, we are two wolves who are draining from a physical issue. The frozen capital of Norway, Oslo. Silye, an asian who have been segregated and tormented as a result of her race, chooses to get away from this frozen damnation by leaping off the school constructing however is saved by being gotten by the 'Sovereign' of the school. This was certifiably not an uplifting news. This was a bad dream all alone.

Dante and I have been married for three years. But he never knew my real name. We’d had countless arguments over the past three years—over the petty details of everyday life. I can no longer tolerate such a ridiculous life like a puppet today. Calliope, that’s what he called me, but it was actually my twin sister’s name. My husband may never know that the woman who married him three years ago was a substitute bride. Three years ago, my sister abandoned us and left before the wedding with her lover. To prevent the anger of the Laurent’s, my family had no choice but to let me marry Dante instead of my sister. My phone rang again and again, I finally picked it up. "Throwing another tantrum, are you? Calliope, tell me what you are capable to do if you can not even be merely a housewife?" I knew Calliope could always get her way through her sweet voice and innocent smiles. She can be an obedient and perfect wife—something I could never manage. "Dante. I’m not joking.” I didn't know if my voice sounded a little sad. "You can’t be serious—" For the first time, I heard a tremor in the man's words. He doesn't love me. He likes to be in control. When he realized that his puppet was losing control, he began to panic. It's time for this farce to end. I clenched my phone and spoke to the man on the other end in the calmest voice of my life. "Dante, let's get a divorce." But what shocked me more than hearing Dante's answer was the person who suddenly appeared in front of me. Calliope, my twin sister, who disappeared for the whole three years. “Are you crazy? Why on earth would you want a divorce? That's Dante Laurent, a billionaire heir, every woman's dream！” “Calliope? Our parents and I all thought you would never show up again. I entered this wrong marriage because of your escape. Dante... he’s not that a husband out of your dreams.” “Seraphina, put away your ridiculous niceness and compassion. I have returned this time to take back what is MINE and my place.” She lifted my hand with a sneer and removed the wedding ring from my finger.

I, Mona Goldheart, decide to tell my mate, Edmund Ryker, about my pregnancy on my birthday. But Edmund, who never misses my birthday, misses it this time. The reason he cited was that he had to attend a very important meeting. I don't believe it. When I rush over to his company, I see him holding a birthday party for Amy Drumm, the Omega he brought back to our pack not long ago. Watching as the two of them act so intimately, I contacted Edmund through our mind-link. I ask, "Is the meeting going well?" Edmund holds Amy in his arms, laughing happily. But when he replies to me, his tone is flat, as if he really is attending a meeting. He says, "It's going well. When I finish, I'll come back and celebrate your birthday." I sneer and reply, "Turn around and take a look."

On the one thousand and ninety-fourth day of being Mrs. Harris, I asked James Harris for a divorce. His face showed a hint of confusion, but it quickly shifted to his usual, composed expression. "As you wish," he said, his tone as flat as if we were discussing whether to replace the milk on the breakfast table. He did not even bother to ask why. On the one thousand and ninety-fifth day, I gently saw him and the children off, acting as if nothing had happened, and then completely left the Harris family behind.

For four years, I worked three jobs to support my husband, Edward Godfrey, while he chased his PhD and battled ALS. And somehow, in all that time, I'd never stepped foot on his campus. Not because I didn't want to. Every time I brought it up, he had some excuse ready. When graduation came, I asked to go to his hooding ceremony. He shut it down fast. "It's just a formality. A bunch of lab nerds. You'd be bored. Once I bring the diploma home, we'll have a candlelight dinner." I didn't argue. Just helped him straighten his doctoral gown. But I couldn't hide how excited I was. So I dressed up. And secretly followed him. Onstage, Edward stood beside his wheelchair, voice thick with emotion. "I want to thank my wife. She stood with me in the lab, even while pregnant, helping me grind out countless precious data points." I froze. My hand pressed against my flat stomach. Cold crept down my spine. For four years, I'd busted myself raw to support his PhD. I went from the girl everyone on campus admired to a fish seller, reeking like seafood every day. Worked so hard I miscarried twice. So who exactly was this "wife" he was thanking?

As a martial arts genius, can he be despised, even his own wife can't protect? You can rest assured, I am a martial arts person, creating magic with one hand, bringing you to the peak of life. As long as you're by my side, no matter what you do, the sky will fall down, I'll let you up.

I suddenly got a call from the police, telling me I was involved in an abandoned baby case. My best buddy was holding me up as we rushed to the scene when Shirley Dunn, the girl who had asked me for directions last week, suddenly pointed straight at me. "That's her. I saw her this morning, holding her stomach, going into the restroom! Now the baby's been born, and her belly's flat!" I was completely stunned. Before I could react, she shoved the newborn straight into my arms. "This is your own flesh and blood! How could you abandon him?" The officer's expression was equally severe. "Miss, I understand that becoming a mother at 20 can be scary, but abandoning a baby is a crime. If you didn't want to raise a child, you shouldn't have had one." More and more college students gathered around, their stares stabbing into me like needles. Cold sweat soaked my back. My best friend suddenly burst out laughing. "Congrats, man! You're a dad now!"

"I love you, Aires" "Who wrote this letter?" Aires asked, bending to pick the piece of paper that has fallen at his feet, his eyes pinned hers and she swallowed, "you love me?" His voice sounded strange to her ears but she couldn't fathom the emotions behind it. Timidly she nodded finally voicing out her feelings. His gaze raked over her and she stood absolutely still, "flat chest, flat bum, teeth filled with braces and clumsy as hell, I can never love someone like you so get lost" and so she ran, with tears streaming down her cheeks like rivers of water......

After receiving his bonus, my husband, John Anderson, used his savings and bought his mother a house in the city. Considering my mother-in-law, Mary Anderson’s age, it was not ideal for her to stay alone in the countryside. Hence, I transferred the money without any hesitation. However, when John went to fetch his mother for house-viewing, she appeared unexpectedly before my door. “Helen, I can understand that you feel unwell due to your pregnancy, but my husband left me so little money. I can’t give it all to you.” I was dumbfounded. Just when I was about to clarify matters, my husband called me. “Helen, Mom doesn’t like this house. The other house she likes is three hundred thousand dollars more expensive. Quick, transfer me the money. “Oh, by the way, I’m afraid Mom will feel bad about this, so I didn’t tell her the actual price. When we visit her, please don’t accidentally tell her this information. I’m afraid she’d feel embarrassed.” I touched my flat belly. “Mary, did you say that I’m pregnant?” The next second, Mary’s phone started to ring. “Mom, Helen’s feeling uncomfortable, and she wants to buy a massage chair. Please send me more money!” Mary was also dumbfounded. “Aren’t you John’s wife?”

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”