Is Percy's Mom Dead

Pagkatapos ideklara ng doktor na brain dead ang anak kong si Mia Powell, kinumbinsi ako ng asawa kong si Liam Powelle na pirmahan ang organ donation consent form. Kasalukuyan ako noong nalulunod sa pagdadalamhati at malapit na ring mawala ang katinuan sa aking isipan. Dito ko aksidenteng nadiskubre na ang doktor ng aking anak na si Blair Lincoln ay ang dating kasintahan ng aking asawa. Nagsinungaling sila sa pagiging brain dead ni Mia para pirmahan ko ang form at makuha ang puso nito na kanilang gagamitin para mailigtas ang anak ni Blair na si Sophia. Pinanood ko ang pagsundo ni Liam kay Sophia sa ospital. Nakangiting umalis ang mga ito para bang isa silang perpekto at masayang pamilya. Nang kumprontahin ko ang mga ito, agad nila akong itinulak para mahulog mula sa isang building na siyang ikinamatay ko. Nang mabigyan ako ng ikalawang pagkakataon, bumalik ako sa araw kung kailan ko dapat pirmahan ang organ donation form. Tahimik akong nangako habang tinititigan ko ang nakahigang si Mia kaniyang hospital bed. Buhay ang sisingilin ko sa lalaking iyon at sa ex nito nang dahil sa ginawa nila kay Mia.

For three agonizing years, my mother struggled with kidney failure. Finally, after all the waiting and the constant dialysis, she was next in line for a transplant. Hope seemed so close. But then, my husband, Zachary Levi, an esteemed nephrology professor, did the unforgivable. He surreptitiously gave his lover's mother the kidney that was intended for my mother. He said almost dismissively, "Ella's mother couldn't wait any longer. Your mother's been on dialysis for so long, she's not going to die anytime soon." Later, my mother passed away. I called Zachary one final time. Yet, it was a woman who answered. "Margaret, right? Zachary's in the shower. Is there something you need?" I stared at my mother's smile on the gravestone, and an overwhelming emptiness spread through me. "It's nothing. Just wanted to talk about the divorce."

I was locked in a fridge for 40 days while the uncensored photos of me spread like wildfire across the internet. In the face of the salacious rumors about me, my mother reacted by reposting them. Then, she turned to warn my sister, "Look at how disgusting the entertainment industry is. Don't join it, alright? Stay home and inherit your sister's assets instead. My dearest daughter must be innocent and pure, unlike her." She forgot. She forgot I only joined this 'disgusting' industry to pay for her cancer treatment.

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.

All I wanted was to submit to his dominance.I desired his warmth around my body; his breath brushed across my exposed skin, and his frigid lips kissed me softly. I had a crazy fantasy about my lecturer. Indeed, it was. He kissed me, and I kissed him back. I seduced him, and he burned me in his flame. But the only problem we had was that he was my mother's new boyfriend, and our love would destroy both of us. *** Isabella, a 19-year-old spoil brat of a billionaire’s mother. She is a perfect example of beauty, she has a striking figure, with long, cascading red hair. Ezekiel, a 25-year-old who has his own business, besides being the heir of a famous university, he does part time lecture there. His physical presence was just as imposing as his reputation. At 6'3" with a diamond-shaped face, broad shoulders, and a hot figure. "Isabella's relationship with Ezekiel is, Ezekiel dates Isabella's mother and he is also Isabella's professor, but she falls in love with him."

Alice is happily married and enjoying life in her little bubble, until one day she stumbles across messages to her husband she was not meant to see. With three children and a divorce under her belt, will she ever find love again?

Serene Gomez's life is more like a mess, how does she cope with a gambling father, a mentally unstable mother, and a sick little brother. Her life was riddled with piled-up debts that she must settle. The ones who should stand by her side were her greatest downfall. All she wanted was to settle her debts and live peacefully but upon encountering him, her plans crumbled... Steve Jobbs, a thirty-two-year-old billionaire who was under the pressure of his grandfather to get married and have an heir. The young CEO only have his business at heart and nothing more. The affairs of love was useless to him. To abide by his grandfather's will, he also needed to find a woman... With the contract between them, can love happen?

“Are you sure you want to do this?” A soft murmur reached Sierra’s ears as she closed her eyes. “Is there another way?” “You’ve already heard what the doctor said about Callie’s condition, right? There’s no other way, Sierra.” Axton lifted his head from the crook of Sierra’s neck. “So, let’s get this done now and give me the money according to our deal,” Sierra said confidently while giving him a long kiss. *** Sierra signed an agreement to become a surrogate mother for her best friend, Callie, who couldn’t get pregnant by herself due to lupus. As part of the arrangement, Sierra would receive compensation, which she planned to use to pay off the debt left by her bastard father. Unfortunately, after they finalized the agreement, Callie was declared unable to produce eggs for fertilization. In the end, the only solution rested with Sierra. Callie asked her best friend to sleep with her husband so they could have a child together, a baby that would be raised as Axton and Callie’s own. Having no other choice, she slept with her boss, who also happened to be her best friend’s husband, and eventually became pregnant with his child. However, tragedy struck when Callie fell seriously ill during Sierra’s seventh month of pregnancy and passed away. So, what happens next? What will happen to Sierra and the baby she is pregnant with? What if there are many hidden truths between them? What if Sierra and Axton had a connection in the past before Axton married Callie? What if Axton and Callie’s relationship was built on a web of lies that Callie kept hidden? As secrets from their pasts begin to unravel, how will Sierra and Axton face the future?

When the college admission notice arrived, I suddenly developed a high fever and was bedridden. My sister encountered a kidnapping on her way to help me collect the notice, and her life was uncertain. My parents hated me deeply. After tearing up my admission notice, they forced me to give up my studies and work in a factory. Later, I experienced a kidnapping as well. After narrowly escaping, I hid in an abandoned factory and sent them a message for help. My dad called me and shouted at me without restraint, “Lena, are you even human? How could you play such a joke on us on Jessica's memorial day!” “Do you have any idea how much your mom and I wished it had been you who died back then?” In my last moments before death, their insults echoed in my ears. I was tortured and killed, turned into a monster, and my body was thrown into a stinking ditch for three full days. Even my father, the most experienced forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When my sister returned home with the guy she eloped with years ago, my dad had just restored my appearance through technology. They knelt before my decaying corpse and cried until they fainted.

My mother hated me, to the point that she wished I were dead. I knew I deserved to die. Sixteen years ago, if I hadn’t insisted on going out, my brother wouldn’t have died while trying to save me. Eventually, both of us got what we wished for. I got brain cancer. She had become a stranger to me as I forgot everything and went to die in blissful ignorance. Then, she went mad.