Game Of Thrones Joffrey Death

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."

Marcia was once destined for a life of happiness as a wealthy princess, but in this moment, she was ruthlessly struck by fate. She discovered that her husband, Alan, not only betrayed her but also had an affair with her best friend. While pregnant, she was persecuted, leading to a devastating miscarriage that shattered her spirit. Even more heartbreaking, her father suffered a stroke and passed away due to Alan's embezzlement of company funds. In an instant, Marcia lost her wealth, her child, and the one person who truly loved her... In her despair, Marcia made a decision: revenge! Two years later, she returned as Patricia, becoming the most trusted secretary of the powerful billionaire Elijah Sinclair. She vowed to make those who had wronged her pay, ensuring they would suffer in hell! *** (Sample) Marcia grabbed Calvin's hand tightly, her voice sharp. "I WANT REVENGE! I WANT REVENGE! Calvin, please help me! I can't let him get away with this!" Her eyes were bloodshot, her tone rising to a near scream. Calvin felt her icy grip, devoid of warmth. He gently embraced Marcia, solemnly promising, "Don't worry, I will help you!" Calvin placed a brown paper bag gently in front of her. "Open this. Get close to him; he can help you. But know this: from now on, there will be no more Marcia Roberts. Are you ready for that?" Marcia sat up in bed, carefully tying her long hair back, revealing a gaunt, colorless face. "At this point, do I have any other choice? But, Calvin, are you sure this person can help me?" "He's Elijah Sinclair. If he can't, no one can..."

Warning: This story contains a lot of explicit violence, foul language, and gore scenes, which are strictly not for readers under 18. She swore to kill him. He vowed to make her beg for him. Sylvara Swiftfang only had one mission: avenge her parents’ murder by destroying Darius Ashfang, the ruthless Alpha mafia lord who tore her family apart. But when she runs from a forced marriage, fate delivers her straight into his hands. He doesn’t kill her. He doesn’t cage her. Instead, he offers a game: Seven months. She swears she’ll end his life. He swears she’ll never live without him. As passion tangles with vengeance, Sylvara must choose, betray her heart or surrender to the one man she was born to hate. But in a world of blood oaths, pack wars, and deadly secrets, love could be the most dangerous gamble of all.

Seven years after my death, a young man starts using the phone number I used in life. When he signs in to my Facebook account, he sees the things I've written on my timeline. He sees the unspoken love contained in those words and wants to help me find my beloved. He wants to help me fulfill the wish that I couldn't before my death. Later, he manages to find the person I love, but I'm about to fade from existence. Why? Because my lover has almost forgotten about me.

In my previous life, my husband suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and died instantly in his office. When I arrived at the hospital, all that awaited me was his lifeless body. Overwhelmed with grief, I coughed up blood and was bedridden ever since. On my deathbed, I happened to see a news report—my husband had won a $15 million lottery. Standing beside him at the prize ceremony was none other than my best friend. The shock killed me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband had just died.

“I want you, Lyra. Since the day I saw you at that bastard’s place, I’ve wanted you. It might have taken me a long time to realize it, but let me be a part of your life…” He struggled for a moment, “…and this baby. Our baby.” ************************************* Lyra Lockwood, former princess and the last of her kind, had unknowingly connived with her mate to kill her parents, only to end up rejected. Six years later, the Wolf King visits her pack, sees her, and demands she participate in his Luna choosing game—a game where one woman emerges as his Luna. But for years, all the women who participated have died. For years, rumors swirled that the Wolf King was the one killing them. For years, Raphael had not seen a woman like Lyra—someone who captured both him and his wolf from the moment they laid eyes on her. To Lyra, he was her master now, one she had to serve, just as she had served Edmund, her ex-mate. To Raphael, he wanted to know every inch of her—every scar, every line. Would Lyra accept him into her life after everything she’s been through? And could Raphael wait for her through it all? Find out.

They told me an alpha’s daughter must choose a man to take the rank and position of Alpha of her pack. Why? They said I was too fierce, too headstrong, that this was my father's last wish. Was it? They picked out potential partners and pushed their top choice forward.They said he's the best man for the job. Was he? Lies. In this labyrinth of deceit and manipulation, a twisted game of power and betrayal is at play. They think I have nothing but they're wrong. I have two men ready to stand by my side. Julian Knight, my bodyguard. A man they don't realise is ready to d!e for me. And Quade Steele, the Lycan King. A man as dangerously powerful as he is handsome, offers me his partnership. I know he has his own agenda, but what is it? I'll pay any price for revenge because I am the very storm that will destroy them all. I’ll reclaim what’s mine, turn the world on its axis, and become the ultimate master of the very game created to ruin me. My name is Layla Blackwell and I'm nobody's b!tch.

The fake daughter married my boyfriend. My mouth was taped and I was being chopped into pieces by her admirer. The entire family took turns to call me. My mother said, "How ungrateful you are. I should not have brought you home back then." Father added, "Don't bother coming back if you do not attend Samantha's wedding." Brother said, "Let me tell you, you shall root in hell if you choose not to attend the wedding." At that moment, I didn't even have the energy to shout for help due to excessive blood loss. Everyone lost their patience, "Speak up! Are you dead or what?" I could only see the calls being disconnected. One thing they did not know, I was really dead.

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.

My fiancé suddenly announces he's marrying my sister instead. And just as my world collapses, the cold, noble Twinkle Oriven kneels before me with a diamond ring in hand. He confesses he's loved me for years. We get married. For three years, he's gentle, considerate, and flawless in every way. Then, one day, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and a friend. "Twinkle, Amelie has everything she has ever wanted. Isn't it time to end this fake marriage?" "Since I can't marry Amelie, it doesn't matter who I marry. All that matters is that it keeps her life undisturbed." In the chapel where he prays every day, the wallpaper is covered with one name—Amelie Ashcombe. I hear him pray to the heavens. "May all the good in the world belong to Amelie. I'd trade my own happiness for her peace and joy. I don't ask to have her in the next life… I just want her to remember me." So this is the truth behind three years of a seemingly perfect marriage. I erase my identity and stage a fake death. From now on, Twinkle and I are nothing.