Joker Why So Serious Face

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink. I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand. His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips. "Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?" Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?" But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and smashed it on my head. "My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore." The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away. Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live. "Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

This was the sixth time Dante Falcone had slammed that damned divorce agreement down in front of me, forcing me to sign. This time, I did not resist. He set down the pen. In that instant, a suffocating silence filled the room. His deep brown eyes locked onto me, sharp and probing, as if he were trying to see straight through my soul. "Why so obedient this time, Sofia? Or are you planning another trick? Don't forget who you are. Mrs. Falcone." I removed the ruby ring that symbolized the mistress of the family, the one he had placed on my finger when he proposed to me in Sicily. I set it gently on the desk, a surface stained with both blood and money. My voice was calm, lifeless. "No, Dante. I'm just... tired. Your world is too loud."

He hates her so much. He wants her to pay, but why kill her when he can play the long game? He is the predator, and she's the prey. Or, so he thought. * Damian meticulously leads a double life— an affluent billionaire on the outside and a well-aged lycan on the inside. He has been in concealment since the treacherous murder of his Luna years ago. Damian remains haunted by the depth of the betrayal. His pent-up rage is reignited when Ishtar comes along, an ordinary human who bears the face of the traitor who murdered his mate. A doppelganger of the lycan who orchestrated the ruin of his pack in the past. Not only is he surprised by Ishtar's audacity, but his inactive wolf rages for the first time in a long while, claiming she is the answer. The little human crashes down his high walls, torturing him with memories of the past. Just as he suspects, Ishtar is connected to his past and is the key to relieving him of the excruciating weight he bears. There's a tinge of passion beneath the hard-surfaced hate, and it intensifies the more he tries to quench the fire. # Ishtar has spent years of her life on the street, being a petty thief, since she left the orphanage at eighteen. Everything changes when she bumps into Damian and assaults him. She falls into his world without being aware of his end game and identity. She is the old soul's plaything and his last chance at redemption. Her assumptions about herself become a sham when she's open to the world of supernaturals. Humans are not built to last, but there's more to this one. What happens when Ishtar isn't the only doppelganger around? Who stops the past from burning into existence again?

When I'm accompanying my daughter, Alina Stone, to the hospital for a chemotherapy session, an employee from the social security center calls me. "Ms. Lewis, an error has occurred with the bank card that's set to receive your parents' pension. Please make sure to change to a new card." I'm left feeling stunned. My parents have been dead for three years. Why would they even receive more pension in the first place? After asking the employee, I find out that my parents' pension has been wired into the bank card as normal throughout the years. My husband, Christian Stone, was the one who had previously updated the bank card details at the social security center. Once I get home, I demand answers from Christian after playing him the recording of the phone call. He falls silent for a very long time before telling me the truth. It turns out that he never registered my parents' death back then. Till now, their corpses have been stored in a freezer in my childhood home. That bank card had received a total of 90 thousand dollars' worth of pension over the past three years. Christian has given all of the money to his ex-wife, Lydia Swanson, in order to support her financially. But the thing is, he never gave me a single cent for Alina's treatment before.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

The Ashford family opposed my relationship with Everett Ashford. To separate us, they drugged him, and his fiancée ended up pregnant with twins. Everett threatened suicide if I left him. He begged me to stay, swearing he would never see them again. He even told me the pregnancy had been terminated. Three years later, I spotted him at a parent-teacher conference. Enraged, I kept the twins after school and, on their way home, they were kidnapped. Everett blamed me for everything. To force me to reveal where the twins were, he strapped my mother onto a high tower ride. However, my mother had a heart condition. I sobbed that I did not know anything. Everett screamed at me. "I've been good enough to you! Why the hell would you go after those kids? Tell me where they are right now or I swear I'll push your mother off this thing!" He shoved her toward the platform's edge. The safety harness hung loose on her frail body. I had no idea where the twins were. Everett shoved my mother off anyway. Just then, someone found the twins. Everett walked away without looking back, leaving my mother dying of a heart attack. While he rushed to pick up his children, I stood in a hospital room pulling a white sheet over my mother's face. That was the moment I finally stopped loving him.

My father-in-law was clinging to life after a car accident. The only way he'd survive is if I—a top surgeon—operated on him myself. I'd just changed into my scrubs when my wife, Clara Stevens, rushed in and grabbed my arm. "You're not going anywhere. The priority is protecting Rick's face. Not a single scar, you hear me?" I pulled away. "Dad has minutes left. If we miss the window, he's gone." Clara didn't even flinch. "That worthless country bumpkin father of yours was born a burden. If he dies, he dies—at least we won't have to take care of him anymore. But if Rick's face gets ruined, I swear you'll pay." Her first love, Rick Ford, tugged her sleeve with a fake whimper. "Clara, your husband seems pretty upset. You think he's stalling on purpose? Trying to hurt me?" I was so angry, I just laughed. So that was the case. All along, Clara thought the one dying… was my father.

The day before Simon Miles and I were set to get engaged, he told me his true love was his childhood sweetheart. He secretly booked plane tickets for himself and her to travel abroad. For eight years, I would spend one day each year at the Capital Hotel. That was where my engagement to Simon was supposed to happen. Everyone thought I could not move on from him. Eight years later, he returned to the country with his childhood sweetheart for his career. He had learned that a tycoon’s mother, Laurel Windsor, loved dining at the Capital Hotel, so he immediately bought her a gift to curry favor. The moment he handed Laurel the gift, he saw me standing beside her. He frowned and snapped. “It’s been eight years, Clara. Why are you still clinging to me? You knew I was coming back, so you rushed over, didn’t you? “Listen here. I’m back for business. If you ruin this deal for me, I’ll make you pay!” I was baffled. Oh, so he still did not know why I was here. Laurel was my mother-in-law, and it was her birthday today. Every year, I would dine with her at the Capital Hotel for her birthday.

I went viral, all for the wrong reasons. The world came down hard on me, all because I refused to approve my employee, Cassandra’s, maternity leave. Cassandra tore me apart online. “Why won’t you grant me maternity leave? “The government wants the birth rate to go up. Even if you’re the CEO, you can’t go against the law. “I get it. The low birth rate exists because heartless capitalists like you treat employees like nothing. “Fam, back me up here. Am I wrong to protect my unborn child? “I have a legal right to maternity leave.” With her words striking a chord with the young generation, the livestream became a viral sensation. Many spammed the company’s social media to criticise me. There were memes of me as a funeral portrait everywhere. Some even mailed wreaths to the office. The board ordered me to apologize live. I plugged into Cassandra’s stream and looked at her calmly. “I’m sorry, but I still can’t approve your leave.”

Crimson widened her eyes as the tall sturdy figure stepped an inch close to her. With her face staring at his chest that was broad and looked like that of an athlete, she dared not look him in the face due to the mess she has created. " Kevin we can talk about this in private, I've really toyed with your name this much please don't sue my company, they had nothing to do with this, it was me who claimed that on my own, i'm very sorry." Crimson apologised to the cold looking man as she bowed continuesly. "Why should you be sorry? I didn't know untill today that I had a fiancee. Grandfather is asking when the marriages would be hold." Kevin snapped coldly, Crimson summoned up courage to look up at his face as she didn't want to miss the smirk that was plastered on his face. "You heard me right.. you've claimed me yourself why do you look like a chicken?" Kevin mocked as Crimson scratched her head in frustration.