Gifts Of An Empath

I'm diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease. A wonder drug that is being auctioned off is my last chance at survival. However, upon winning the bid for the said drug, my parents hand it to my older cousin, Annie Harper, who is suffering from infertility instead. This time, I will not make a fuss. I will even purchase a variety of supplements for Annie. My fiance tells me that Annie deserves to be married off splendidly. He wants to give his wedding gifts, which were originally meant for me, to her instead. I consent willingly. On top of that, I transfer both the house and the car he purchased for me to Annie. My parents have relief and delight written on their faces. "You've finally grown up and understood that Annie needs this medication more than you do because she's getting married." My dad says, "Once I've attended the medical symposium for rare diseases and completed the dissection of a patient's cadaver, I will be able to develop a cure for you." Nonetheless, seven days later, I have become the cadaver meant to be cut open by my father. My primary physician calls my father out in public at the symposium, pointing him out as an unethical doctor who gave my life-saving medication to Annie. My parents and boyfriend are criticized by the audience for being murderers. Yet, they firmly believe that this is how I'm getting back at them. They intend to reveal my memories to the public so that everyone learns that I deserved to die.

I woke up in a penthouse dressed up for Christmas, having no memory of how I got here. With a stranger sitted beside my hospital bed, his dark eyes watching me like I was something precious he was afraid to lose. He says his name is Damien Cross, my husband. He says we were in an accident two weeks before Christmas, and that I've forgotten everything about our perfect life together. But nothing felt right. The staff won't meet my eyes. My phone had no history. And when I found a journal hidden behind wrapped gifts in my dressing room, the handwriting is mine, but the words were a warning: Do not trust him. Leave before Christmas. You know what he did. Damien surrounded me with holiday magic, kisses under the mistletoe, and planned romantic surprises beneath twinkling lights. He's everything a husband should be: protective, tender, devoted. Yet his love felt like a cage decorated with ribbons and bows. The closer we got to Christmas Eve, the more I remember fragments of another life. Arguments,Fear,Betrayal. One night I tried to run from him in the snow and never made it out. Now I have until Christmas Day to uncover the truth about my past before Damien's version of our love story becomes the only one that matters. Because the man who saved me might be the same man I was trying to escape.

Victoria Bathram has been fighting kidney failure for five long years. Through endless hospital visits, painful treatments, and nights filled with fear, she survives on one thing alone—the love of her husband, Gabriel. He is attentive, gentle, and seemingly devoted, standing by her side as she waits for the transplant that could save her life. When a matching kidney is finally found, Victoria believes her suffering is about to end. Instead, it is just beginning. By accident, Victoria overhears a conversation she was never meant to hear. Gabriel has made a choice—one that does not include her. The kidney meant to save her will be given to another patient: a young girl named Sandra. A child he calls his daughter. A child from the secret family he has been hiding all along. As Victoria’s health rapidly declines, the truth unravels. Gabriel has not only betrayed her trust but has been living a second life inside her parents’ villas—homes he kept her away from under the excuse of protecting her fragile heart. Through hidden security footage, Victoria watches her husband give his affection, loyalty, and gifts to another woman and her children, using the life she thought was hers. With only months left to live and everything she believed in stripped away, Victoria faces a devastating choice of her own: remain a silent victim of love and betrayal, or reclaim what little time she has left on her own terms.

On Christmas Eve, my parents and my fiancé, Ivano Dominici, finally agree to accompany me to Iberion to see the aurora. But when I arrive there, they never show up no matter how long I wait. I send messages to ask. They reply helplessly that something urgent has come up at the last minute and tell me to go to the observation point and wait. I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me. When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave. Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides. Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness. The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!" The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages. I stare at the screen for a long time without moving. This is not the first time they break their promise to me because of Giada. But this time, I do not argue or make a scene. I simply type and send one line calmly in the comments, "I wish your family of four a Merry Christmas." I finally let go of my obsession and stop waiting for people who will never come to me. But when I quietly step away, the ones who cannot let go turn out to be them.

After my boyfriend, Mitchell Cooper, finds out that I've spent 300 thousand dollars on a mug, he demands that I buy his mother a single-level apartment that's worth eight million dollars in the heart of the city. Naturally, I turn his ridiculous demand down in a roundabout way. But this sets him off instead. "Don't be so stingy! My mom will become your mom in the future! What's wrong with showering her with gifts in advance?" Afterward, he records all our expenses that have taken place during our relationship on presentation slides and tells me that we have to split them up. "If you think splitting up our expenses is a troublesome thing to do, then you might as well imburse all of them. You're the rich one, after all. "I've already discussed everything with my family. We'll only give you one dollar as a form of wedding gift. It means 'the only one,' which sounds amazing, right?" Upon noticing my lack of response, Mitchell issues the ultimatum right away. "If you refuse to accept these conditions, then we can call off the wedding. You've already dated me for so many years. I'd like to see if anyone wants a second-hand woman like you." I stare at the long list of expenses that need to be split. I even catch sight of the two-dollar Uber fees that were charged when Mitchell came to look for me in the past. With a smile on my face, I reply, "Okay, then. I don't want a single cent from you in terms of wedding gifts. I'll buy your mom that apartment right now."

I was born destined to be fertile. The kind of woman who brings heirs into the world as if it were destiny. My womb had never failed me. The Schuyler family had practically begged me to marry into their family. The reason was simple. For three generations, the Schuyler family had only produced a single heir each time. Their bloodline was hanging by a thread. The patriarch of the family, Albert Schuyler, went everywhere looking for solutions. Doctors, fortune tellers, shamans, anyone who could give him hope. In the end, every prediction pointed to me. After I married Jack Schuyler, my first pregnancy was twins. The entire Schuyler family exploded with joy. Albert donated to every church and fortune teller alike, kneeling in gratitude. Before the babies were even weaned, the Schuyler family business began to thrive. Everyone said that it was the blessing of having noble heirs. Wedding gifts, properties, and company shares. The Schuyler family spared nothing. They treated me like a queen, terrified that I might suffer even the slightest. Until the day I gave birth to my third child. Jack Schuyler's true love, Bianca Chance, barged into the delivery room, screaming at me, "You shameless tramp! You're nothing but a breeding sow! One baby after the other! Are you trying to trap Jack with your womb? You disgusting woman! Jack had said that everything you give birth to will just be burdens sooner or later!" I pressed a hand on my wound and looked at her. Burden? Fine. I would take these so-called burdens with me. As for the Schuyler family's precious bloodline, they had to figure out how to continue it on their own.

Hazel Dalton has always known her parents never wanted her. She is the girl, who should have been a boy. The family dissapointment. Keeping her nose in a book, Hazel tries to escape the world, who does not want her. But always looking down, is not only a good thing, especially when you dream of finding your mate and hoping he might be the strong and handsome Alpha of your pack. Grady Starwood becomes Alpha of the Starfall pack when he is 18, and if there is something he dreams of more then lead his pack to greatness, it is to find his destined mate and cherish her forever. His parents has instilled a love for the matebond, and a respect for the gifts the Moon Goddess bestows upon you in him since he was a small pup. It is with some disappointment, but also a small hope, that Grady does not find his mate right away. He has always had a crush on the quiet and shy Hazel Dalton, and found her astoundingly beautiful. Despite his daily fan club of hopeful she-wolves, lead by Josie Dalton, waiting for him to pick one of them as his chosen mate, Grady remains steady in his resolves to wait until Hazel is 18 and see. What happens when Grady finds his dream girl to be his mate, but a severe misunderstanding drives her away from him and his pack? Will she ever return or will he be forced to take a chosen Luna? Can Hazel ever come back and forgive her mate for what she thinks is his betrayal? Will she give him a chance to explain? Or will the mate she so badly wanted be the villain in her story forever? Drama, twists and unexpected turns. This is; The Alpha's Runaway Luna

When I married mafia don Paul Garcia, I was twenty-two, and he was thirty-two. By day, he was the cold, dangerous king of the underworld. By night, he was my daddy. Everyone in New Haven knew how much he loved me. I casually mentioned I disliked the ballerina competing with me for the principal role. The next day, she “accidentally” broke her leg and never returned to the stage. One night, I craved pasta from a specific restaurant. Without a word, he led his men into the kitchen, pressed a gun to the chef’s head, and forced him to recreate the dish overnight. I once joked about wanting to sleep among the clouds. He turned around, had the building of a rival family blown up, then bought the tallest one in the city and engraved my name on the top floor. However, in bed, he would exhaust me completely and refuse to let me go. Even when the doctor warned that I was in early pregnancy and needed restraint, he ignored my cries, tied my wrists with his tie, and went on until dawn. The next day, I started bleeding. I called him ninety-nine times, yet he rejected every single call. In my panic, I suddenly received a video from my best friend. “Emily, your don is pinning a woman down and kissing her at the bar of the Four Seasons in Moscovia.” When I opened the video, my heart stopped. The man was Paul, and the woman was my aunt. In that case, I’ll give him two gifts when he comes back: an abortion report and a divorce agreement.

My boyfriend belonged to the untouchables among the capital's elite, with a family fortune worth tens of billions. To "test" me, he spent seven years never buying me a single gift, never spending a cent on me. Even a stop at a convenience store for condoms had to be split down the middle. Then, my mother fell critically ill. I borrowed from every friend and relative I could, but I was still two thousand short to cover the surgery fees. No matter how much I pleaded, he refused to lend me the money. I arranged my mother's funeral on my own. When I went back to pack my belongings, I accidentally found a list of gifts he had bought for the young woman next door. A private luxury estate. Designer handbags. Jewelry worth hundreds of millions. There was also a voice chat with his friend. "Caleb, is it true Jessica actually humbled herself and begged you for two thousand?" Caleb Brooks let out a low, amused laugh, his tone lazy and indifferent. "Nevaeh wasn't wrong. Anyone who goes around begging over two thousand — what else is she if not a gold digger? "We've only been together seven years and she's already trying to get money out of me." So that was the truth. Seven years of so-called testing, it seemed, had been sparked by nothing more than a few manipulative words from a young woman next door. However, it no longer mattered. The moment my mother passed away, I had already decided to leave him.

In the third year of her marriage, Natalie Spencer uncovers a devastating truth. Her blindness wasn't caused by a car accident. No, it was because her beloved husband, Jason Pereira, plotted to have her corneas removed and transplanted them into his first love. The only reason he married her in the first place was to save that other woman. The marriage Natalie once took pride in turns out to be nothing but a calculated lie. Crushed, she quietly begins planning her escape. Half a month later, she vanishes without warning. She leaves behind nothing but a signed divorce agreement and a jar of formaldehyde containing an undeveloped embryo. Those are her final gifts to Jason. He loses his mind searching for her, scouring the world in desperation. But when he finally finds her, she's no longer alone. There's another man by her side. Jason stands in front of her, eyes red with guilt and regret. "Natalie, I was wrong. Please don't leave me. Not like this." But the Natalie standing before him now is radiant and powerful—she's an internationally acclaimed artist and a woman reborn. She looks at the man she once loved and feels nothing. "Jason, I'm not that blind bat who used to live and breathe for you anymore." She turns and wraps her arms around the regal man beside her with a smile. "Someone's bothering your wife. Aren't you going to deal with him?" The man smiles back, leans in, and kisses her in front of everyone. "Of course. Whatever my wife says, goes."