Imperial Moth Male Vs Female

On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, is nowhere to be found until late at night. Beside myself with worry, I, Seth Lloyd, frantically reach out to our mutual friends and even consider calling the police. Suddenly, I come across a post about her from her assistant, Callum Cox. "My manager came over to discuss some plans, but the door lock suddenly broke. Does this mean we're going to be stuck in the same room tonight? I can't help feeling a little excited." When I like the post, Jean immediately calls me, furious. "Don't you have any idea how much I earn in a year? Just one day of my lost income would cover what you make in a whole week. "All I did was skip that stupid engagement party, and you start acting all snide. I don't have time to deal with your stingy relatives." My mom, Teresa Whitfield, stays silent, her eyes sweeping over the gold, eight sets of haute couture jewelry, and several property transfer deeds in the private room. With a forced smile, she asks, "Seth, have all these wedding gifts we've prepared embarrassed you?" I sneer, caressing the keys to the luxury car I'm about to give Jean. "No, it's me who's being too generous to her."

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

My girlfriend, Elsa Smith, always avoided meeting my parents. Yet, she had no trouble turning around and playing the role of her ex-boyfriend Leo Quinn’s fiancée, happily meeting his relatives instead. And the meeting took place in the apartment I had prepared for us to live in after the wedding. What she did not realize was that I happened to be Leo’s distant cousin. She pretended not to know me and clung sweetly to Leo, saying, "This apartment was bought by my hubby, fully paid for." All the relatives were praising them as a loving couple. To keep me from exposing her, Elsa came over to warn me, "I’m just helping a friend deal with marriage pressure. If you mess this up, we’re done." So, I sincerely offered my congratulations. "Since Leo and I seem to have the same taste in houses and women, I’ve got some wedding supplies that I’m sure he’ll like. I’ll gift them to you both." That was when Elsa finally started to panic.

After three years of marriage, I believed I had the perfect family. My wife, Sarah, was gentle and caring, and our son was bright and adorable. On a rare day when I finished work early, I arrived home to find Sarah asleep, slumped tiredly by the crib. My heart went out to her, and I decided to carry her to our bedroom. As I approached, Sarah's phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared: “Sarah, is our son asleep?"

My wife is the daughter of a top jewelry tycoon. She accused me of pushing her mother down the stairs to steal the family fortune and had me thrown in prison. While I was locked up, her people disfigured my face and crushed my hands—the same hands that once played the piano. After my release, I run from her like a madman. Just like she said I would, I give up and start mooching off a wealthy woman. But then, she clings to me and begs me not to leave.

Five years after I died, Delia—my wife, a doctor—tried to dump her first love's new mess on me again. She stormed into my old place, waving some fake agreement with my name on it, but all she found was dust. Panicking, she ran downstairs and cornered the shop owner. "William?" he said. "He's been dead five years. Heard the family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad." Delia laughed it off, like the guy was making it up. "So what if he got suspended? He's still sulking over that?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell him this—he's got three days. If he doesn't show, I'm cutting off his sister's cancer treatment." She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and left. The shop owner just watched her go, shaking his head. "There's no sister left," he said quietly. "She died years ago... couldn't pay for treatment."

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

Landon Slater had a notorious reputation as a ruthless, evil man with an intense hatred for humanity. His unrelenting cruelty propelled him to the status of the most feared - unrivaled by any other in the city. His very existence proved that not everyone was born with a pure heart. But, even the devil had a weakness. And Landon found his in the most unexpected place. As their worlds collide, Landon becomes drawn to Victoria much like a moth to a flame. However, with every passing moment he begins to gradp the inevitable truth that she will discover - One that could make her hate him forever. All he could hope was that she remained blissfully unaware of the of his noteriety. Will their bond withstand the truth? Or will it shatter like fragile glass?

Suamiku selalu dipuji oleh teman-teman sebagai suami idaman. Semua orang bilang dia begitu mencintaiku dan menjagaku sepenuh hati. Hingga akhirnya aku pergi melakukan pemeriksaan kehamilan. Kakak sepupuku meneleponnya untuk berpamitan sebelum bunuh diri. Tanpa ragu sedikitpun, dia meninggalkan aku yang sedang hamil enam bulan dan pergi menemuinya dengan panik. Ibuku malah memintaku untuk berlapang dada dan ‘meminjamkan’ suamiku pada kakak sepupuku yang sedang depresi. Abangku juga memarahiku, “Kamu bisa tetap tinggal di rumah ini juga karena Susan membelamu! Jadi, apapun yang dia mau, kasih saja padanya!” Aku merasa ini sungguh keterlaluan. Padahal aku adalah keluarga kalian yang sebenarnya, dia hanyalah pencuri yang merebut posisiku. Namun, saat akhirnya aku memutuskan untuk meninggalkan kalian semua, kenapa justru kalian yang menyesalinya?

Di ruang tamu rumah tergantung sebuah lukisan. Lukisan itu menggambarkan suami, anak, dan adik perempuan Jasmine. Sampai akhirnya, dia mendengar anaknya sendiri berkata, "Kalau ada orang keempat di lukisan ini, pasti itu adik perempuan yang dilahirkan oleh Tante untukku." Sejak saat itu, Jasmine tak lagi memiliki alasan untuk bertahan. Dia mengajukan diri untuk menjadi mata-mata di tempat paling gelap dan paling berbahaya. Mulai hari itu, Jasmine dan mereka ... tidak punya hubungan apa-apa lagi!