Hypocrisy Quotes Bible

"Ms. Jones, the service to fake your death that you requested has been arranged. Here's the agreement. Please sign here." Isabella Jones glanced at the contract that the person placed before her. Client: Isabella Jones Cause of death: Falling from a mountain, eaten by wild animals. Unable to retrieve the remains of the body Time of death: One week from now One week from now would mark the fifth anniversary of her marriage to Samuel Grant. It was also the day she had planned to fake her death and leave him. Since that was the date it all began, it might as well be when it ended.

My Alpha mate nearly lost his life during a vicious rogue wolf attack. It was his assistant Scarlett who threw herself forward and took the silver blade meant for him, saving his life. But because of the silver poisoning, Scarlett's wolf fell into a feral rage state. The pack witch said she would need to mate with an Alpha every full moon to survive. Out of gratitude, my mate fucked her every full moon and my wolf would suffer greatly from the perceived betrayal of my mate. He knelt before me, tears streaming down his face, his whole body trembling. "Evelyn, she saved my life! I can't just watch her die!" After each full moon, he would give me a million dollars as compensation. And every time Scarlett miscarried, he would bring me the finest healing herbs to ease the pain I felt through our mate bond from his betrayal. In just one year, my bank account grew astronomically. I became the bank's most valued client. Until this time, when he disappeared with Scarlett for three months. When he returned, he dropped to his knees and grabbed my hands, pleading desperately. "Evelyn, if she miscarries again, she'll die! I... I can't let my savior perish!" "I'll claim the child as yours and cut all ties with her. Please, just let this child be born, okay?" My eyes instantly filled with tears. I fought hard to keep them from falling. "Fine." If that's how it is, then the pup I traded my life force to the witch for... I'll get rid of it.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

Just one week into my new job, I was wrongfully accused of cooking the books, and it cost me five years behind bars. After that, my wife found out she was pregnant. She insisted on having the baby and promised to wait for me to come home. Out of gratitude, I threw myself into work after my release. I did everything I could to give them a good life. It was until one day, I overheard a conversation between my wife and our son. “Mom, don’t let Dad come out with us. It’s embarrassing! Why did you pin Mr. Scott’s crime on him back then?! And now, the girl next door keeps making fun of me, saying my dad’s a criminal!” My wife gently pulled our son close and comforted him, saying, “I promised Mr. Scott I’d help him. Your dad’s so naive. He’ll never find out.” It turned out that my supposed happy life was nothing but lies and betrayal!

When an earthquake strikes, I'm trapped under one end of a collapsed slab. On the other end is the student I've been sponsoring. My husband, Sebastian Chesson, tells the rescue team to save the student first. The rescuers hesitate. "The other victim might not make it if we do." Sebastian replies coldly, "The other one is my wife. I'll sign a waiver—she's not that easy to kill." I survive, but the three-month-old baby in my womb doesn't. Later, a rescuer hands me a card. "Mr. Chesson said this is five million dollars in exchange for your life." Meanwhile, Sebastian and the student's fairytale romance dominates the trending charts, praised by the internet as the epitome of true love. On our tenth wedding anniversary, I return home to find the student lounging on my bed, wearing my pajamas, playfully teasing Sebastian. Just then, a call comes in from Sebastian's student, who's been eyeing me for a long time. His voice is low, flirtatious, and sinful. "Ms. Sinclair, you always remind me to get to bed early… If you really care, why don't you move in and make sure I do?"

Everyone is jealous of Scarlett Meyer's perfect marriage because her husband is so in love with her that it's literally carved into his bones. However, it isn't until the day she finds out she's pregnant that she realizes her husband, Joachim Davidson, has been cheating on her for the past two years. And the person he's cheating on her with? Katrina Greene, Scarlett's college bully. Katrina even has a pair of twins with Joachim. Katrina won't stop provoking Scarlett, and Joachim also continues lying to her face to be with Katrina. To get back at her cheating husband, Scarlett decides to abort her baby and fake her own death. But just before she leaves for good, she puts the abortion report and proof of Katrina's provocation in an envelope and gifts it to Joachim, telling him that he can only open it a few days later.

Penelope Rivera's little boy toy, Theodore Schneider, is throwing another tantrum. She slides the divorce papers across the table toward me. "Just sign them for show. It's to keep Teddy happy." I clench the cuff of my suit and nod in silence. I sign my name in one swift stroke. As I'm walking out, I hear one of her girlfriends teasing, "Samuel's way too easygoing. Does he actually do everything you say?" Penelope takes a graceful sip of red wine and smirks. "Wanna bet?" They bet that I will quietly go through with the divorce at the courthouse, even if my eyes are red with tears. Listening their laughter, I rub my thumb over my phone screen and reply to the message I've just received. "Will you marry me?" it says. "I will."

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

Carl Larson's intern is about to die, and her only wish is for him to sleep with her once. I disagree, and he says I'm petty. "It's just a one-time thing. She's about to die! Why do you have to assume I'm up to something dirty?" Is that so? I've seen them together more than once, though. I later agree, and he's relieved… until he sees me lying on his operation table for an abortion. He widens his eyes in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" I smile. I want him to murder his child. I want him to regret this for life.

The year the Lawson family was on the edge of bankruptcy, my father made a deal with Rory Lawson and arranged for me to marry him. I didn't know he already had a fiancée, who was also his childhood sweetheart. Later, when my father became embroiled in a scandal and the company faced collapse, Rory brought her home, promising her the grand wedding she deserved. I didn't cry or make a scene. I just quietly packed my bags. Rory sneered, "Don't pull that hard-to-get act. You think you're still the pampered heiress?" Unknown to him, I had the divorce agreement he signed while drunk. In seven days, I'd be leaving the country with my father.