Flushed Away Ending Novels & Stories

Jay Cooper, Giselle White's assistant-slash-sugar baby, accuses me of stealing his mother's personal effects from him. That night, my mom, who's severely ill, gets dangled from a helicopter. Impatience is written all over Giselle's eyes. "If you refuse to return the cross pendant to Jay, your mom will pay for your willful act!" I do my best to suppress the throbbing pain coming from my heart as I beg hoarsely to Giselle to let my mom go. But my seven-year-old daughter, Valerie Walker, jabs a button on the remote control with an icy expression. "This is what you get for going against Mr. Cooper time and again!" I can only watch as Mom falls from a high altitude, soon smashing into the ground heavily. Sorrow fills my heart as I plead in a humble tone, "Please, I'm begging you… Please take my mom to the hospital…" "That's enough, Dylan Walker! The one dangling from the helicopter is a dummy, not your actual mom! Why are you still putting on an act?"

"She was my siren. My unearthly creature, far more beautiful than any angel. I was getting lost in her ocean blue eyes and she was making my heart skip a beat every time she smiles. She was the beginning and the end of all my days, she was my reason to wake up and live a better life. She was my whole life. And my undoing..."

Jake was the last werewolf surviving, he could not forget the moment the whole family was murdered. Amy was originally a human being, but was cursed by a werewolf, she had to fight to hide her identity. The meeting between werewolf Jake and Amy was determined to be painful. Amy loved Jake, but Jake always plotted to take revenge on her, hurting her. Because Amy's grandfather used to kill the Jake family. Love and hate alternating makes Jake and Amy always live in suffering and no happiness. In the end, will love overcome hatred?

After four years with Killian, I got pregnant. I took the pregnancy test and my ID to a private hospital to set up a file, but when entering insurance information, I was stopped by the blonde administrative specialist. "Mrs. Smith, the system shows there is a problem with your marital status." She looked at me awkwardly. "Your marriage to Mr. Killian is not legally effective." I was stunned and instinctively retorted, "That's impossible. We registered in Las Vegas, all the procedures were..." "There is only an application record, no final signed effective document." The specialist turned the screen around and tapped the keyboard a few times. "Moreover, Mr. Killian's legal wife... shows another lady's name." That name was like a thorn, piercing fiercely into my retina. Elena. Killian's personal secretary, and also publicly recognized as the benefactor who saved his life in the Alps avalanche five years ago. I felt all the blood in my body flowing backward. How could it be her?

I was diagnosed with cancer. After much deliberation, I called my husband. He fell silent for a long while. “Most of our mortgage is unpaid, and our children need money for school. You should go for conservative treatment.” I called my mother while weeping. “You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!” I stopped crying and started living for myself. God favored me and let me see reality early in my life. He even gave me a chance to start over.

At the Moretti family banquet, Don Cesare Moretti won a two-person package to a private island resort. The host asked with a teasing grin, "Don Moretti, who are you taking with you?" Every pair of eyes in the room turned to me. The crowd began chanting my name, their voices rising with gleeful anticipation. "Adriana! Adriana!" My heart hammered against my ribs. I smiled at Cesare, hope blooming warm in my chest. But Cesare didn't even glance my way. His gaze had drifted past me, settling on his secretary sitting near the front. His voice was casual, almost indulgent. "Give it to her. The girl's been working late lately. She deserves a break." His secretary's face went scarlet. Those soldiers paused for just a beat—then someone shouted, "The Don is so thoughtful," and the laughter swelled again, smoothing over the moment. My best friend Bianca leaned in, whispering through clenched teeth, "We planned to get married together on the island this year. How could he forget something like that?" I smiled and forced back the tears. Then I reached over and straightened her collar. "Don't worry. The plan stays. The wedding happens." Then I called my father and said yes to the family arrangement. I would marry the Don of the Romanov family—Cesare's biggest rival. If Cesare didn't want to marry me, that was fine. I'd just find myself another groom.

Whenever Ariana heard people describe the first time with someone you love, they described it as something beautiful, intimate, memorable, and not something she had to find out about with other people on a large TV screen. They also never told her that it would be broadcast by the very same person she loved. **** Ariana once believed Salvatore Rossi was her happily ever after until she woke up two days after their wedding with no memory, bruises she couldn’t explain, and a husband who looked at her like a stranger. The truth, when it finally came, came as a public humiliation: her own husband drugged her, slept with her, recorded it and played it for everyone to see. It became clear that he didn’t want her when he brought another woman into the picture. So she ran. She rebuilt. She became a world renowned doctor and raised a son Salvatore never knew existed. Twelve years later, he’s back, asking the woman he wronged to save the one person dearest to him: his dying mother. He barely recognizes her now. She’s cold, brilliant, alluring and unmoved by his name or his fortune. But proximity is dangerous. Old wounds reopen. The desire neither of them buried deeply enough claws its way back to the surface. And as the truth behind who really destroyed their marriage finally comes to light, Ariana has to decide whether revenge tastes sweeter than the love she swore she’d never feel again.

The annual Vittorio family gala was in full swing when my brother, Don Marco Vittorio, decided to host a card game. The stakes were simple: the winner could make one demand of him. Everyone knew I had been brought back to the Vittorio estate three years ago but still hadn't been formally acknowledged as family. They stepped aside, murmuring that this was Marco's way of giving me a chance—a test I might finally pass. Only Gianna, the family's adopted princess, made sure I had none. She counted off her boasts on her fingers. "Marco gives me a black card with a fifty-thousand-euro monthly limit." "He bid on a lighthouse in the Bay of Naples for me." "I give the family toast at New Year's Mass." "My name is on the trust." Four statements. I had one card left. She smiled and delivered the killing blow: "This whole game? Marco threw it just to cheer me up." My heart sank. I looked at my brother. He smiled indulgently—that same smile he'd worn for three years, always taking her side, always asking me to wait. I folded. I laid down my last card. And suddenly, I didn't want to go home that badly anymore. I didn't need the Vittorio name. I was done.

Willow Ashford, the secretary of my mate, Alpha Garrett Blackwood, files our marking ceremony application as a mate bond dissolution for the 37th time. I finally can't hold back anymore and storm into Garrett's office, my voice trembling. "Is this what you call a top graduate from the Elite Werewolves Academy? She couldn't even figure out a simple marking ceremony application! "This is the 37th time. If you really don't have time to manage your employees, I can help you fire her." Garrett looks up from his documents, glances at the application records on my phone screen, and sighs. "I told you before, you can't have someone of Willow's caliber doing menial tasks for you. "If you have time to come here and lose your temper at me, you might as well go handle it yourself." But he doesn't know that I just discovered I'm with pup. The doctor warned me to protect the pup and avoid crowds, and the Werewolf Affairs Department is always packed and suffocating. I look at his cold profile, and something deep inside me finally shatters. In that moment, I decide to end it all. But on the day I leave the pack with our pup, leaving him behind, he goes crazy searching for me everywhere.

When my eyes were gouged out, my mother was shopping with my cousin. When I was forced to drink a bottle of acid and died in agony, she snapped impatiently, “Kara, can’t you be as well-behaved as Wendy? If you’re just going to run away, then don’t bother calling me!” However, when she saw the crime scene, she rushed outside and threw up. As a criminal psychologist specially hired by the River City police, how could she feel sick at the sight of her own daughter’s body?