Jumped The Gun Synonym

Although her past is very unclear because of amnesia, Yula tried to live her simple life despite of all the questions she has in mind. These people who claimed to be her family proved that her name is Yula. As time goes by, she believed them as there are a lot of photos of her from her childhood to present. But she doesn't know why she has this feeling that there's something she needs to unravel about her life ever since a mysterious man gave her a strange letter. Apart from that, she also started dreaming about these two mysterious men. They made her more confuse and desperate to get her memory back. The one is holding a gun, and the other one is kissing her with full of love. Who are these men? Are they part of her past? Or they are just a simple dream and don't actually mean anything? But what made her more skeptical about is this gorgeous billionaire man, who disguised himself as a farmer.

Gabriella "Gabby" Cruz died as a badass in a Motorcycle crash. Middle of a chase. Gun in one hand, vengeance in her heart. But fate had a sense of humor—she wakes up in the body of Seraphina "Sera" Elizalde, the notoriously weak, timid, and unwanted wife of cold-hearted billionaire Damian Rafael Velasco. Now trapped in a life of luxury, betrayal, and manipulation, Gabby must play the part of Seraphina—the submissive socialite cast aside by the very man she married. Too bad Gabby doesn’t do submissive. With a foul mouth, street smarts, and zero patience for bullshit, Gabby decides to flip Seraphina’s life on its head. She’s done playing the victim. If Damian wants a trophy wife? Too bad. She’s about to become the most scandalous, fearless, and powerful woman in his world. What Damian doesn’t know is that the fragile wife he ignored just became the woman who will ruin or save him—and maybe, teach him how to love.

Russia, the only place where sex and guns could ever taste so sweet—my exact nightmare. The only thing I’m here for is to grind my body over shady politicians for my father’s schemes. I’d be more than willing to do so if it meant I’d pull my mother and myself out of his chains and start a new life. I was so close, so damn close—until he came . . . very much unannounced. Konstantin Morozov, the man I am going to be married off to. Russia’s ruthless beast— earning his crown with bloodied hands. With this, I only had to face two challenges: infiltrate his notorious business as per father’s order and divorce him when the time is right. But dealing with a husband who has a Morozov as his last name was never easy, especially with a gun pointed at my head, and those rough, cruel hands wrapped around my heart. I wonder which blows up first?

My fiance, Derrick Lodge, chooses to save me during the typhoon, instead of his first love, Victoria Rayne. My life is saved, but Victoria dies after being struck by flying debris before the rescue team can find her. They aren't even able to find the rest of her body afterward. After going home, Derrick doesn't attend Victoria's funeral and immediately holds a grand wedding for me instead. For the next three years of our marriage, Derrick doesn't stop torturing me because he says that I caused Victoria's death. When I reach my limit and finally ask him for a divorce, Derrick kills me with a gun before killing himself. I open my eyes again and realize that I have traveled back in time. It is the day the typhoon happened, threatening our lives. This time, however, I tell Derrick to save Victoria's life instead.

My sister, Cherry Nicholson, called me nine times before she jumped into the sea. But I didn't pick up once. Now everyone says it's my fault she's gone—even my fiance, my Alpha mate—Samuel Carver. He used to stay by my side through every painful treatment for my wolfsbane fever. Now, he shoves me to the ground like I'm nothing. His once gentle face is now twisted with contempt as he looks down on me and warns, "You don't deserve to be happy!" And truth be told, it isn't just them who believe that. Even I do. Since then, I've stopped going out, stopped dressing up, and stopped meeting anyone's eyes. Even when I run into Samuel holding hands with another she-wolf, I lower my head and walk past silently. But when the wolfsbane fever comes back, I drown in agony and despair. I decide to give my life to atone for what happened to Cherry. That's when they all start to regret it.

My name is Violet. I was the consigliere to the Leon mafia family in New York, and I wrote the rules of this city’s underworld myself. Yet, the man I had kept by my side for ten years, Drake Leon, was now trampling all over them. Ten years was more than enough time for a stray dog to grow into a wolf that can stand on its own. A decade ago, he was hacked to pieces by enemies on the streets of Brooklyn. Covered in blood, he crawled to me like a dying dog. I took him in. I put a gun in his hand. I taught him the rules of the mafia. Step by step, using my position as the Leon mafia family’s consigliere, I groomed him to become the boss of the Manhattan port district. Ten years later, he controlled the most valuable port under the Leon family for me, and for another woman, he framed her in standing grace. When that girl named Lina showed up pregnant, wearing the blue diamond necklace my mother left me, and sat in the seat that was supposed to be mine, I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I had someone take the pathology report from the hospital, along with the child, seal them in a gift box, and deliver them to Drake’s new estate. Half an hour later, the study door was kicked open. He stormed in, drenched in night rain, carrying the scent of gunpowder. The barrel of his gun pressed straight against my forehead. “Violet.” He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.” I stayed seated by the fireplace. I didn’t move. I simply pushed a document to the center of the table. “Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him and continued, “As of fifteen minutes ago, I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two shipping routes, and seven offshore accounts.” Only then did his expression finally change. I smiled faintly, my voice soft. “Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.”

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.

On the day my boyfriend and I moved into our new home, his ex-girlfriend gave us a mysterious gift. The moment I opened the front door, a swarm of hornets came flying out. I screamed in fright as I felt seven or eight stings from them. His ex, Erica Loft, jumped out from behind the door with a giggle. She shouted, "Surprise! "I went up the mountains to visit a master craftsman. I wanted to get you this specially brewed hornet wine, and I even brought back a hornet's nest for you to decorate your new house with! "Isn't this a great gift?" Erica made a face at us. She was gleeful at the messy predicament I was in. My boyfriend, Joe Fulham, clenched his teeth. He rushed forward to grab Erica by the wrist as he shouted angrily at her. "Are you crazy? Don't you know that hornets are venomous?! Is this really a surprise, or are you trying to hurt us?" I listened to another one of their huge arguments from behind the door, feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. As I felt the stinging pain in my arm, I knew this wedding was about to fall through.

I died beneath the Ferris wheel where Henry Cadden and Sophie Lloyd had their secret affair. Two lives were lost that day, mine and my unborn child's, but they all said it was my fate, and I deserved it. Sophie had orchestrated everything. She convinced Henry to cut our child from my body and give it to her, then stole my phone to frame me for infidelity. She also asked him not to look for me. Later, he found out the truth. The lifeless body he discovered was mine, and the child he had removed from my womb for Sophie was our own. My remains weren't even complete. He told himself it was for the best, that the child had done a good deed and would be blessed for it. But deep down, guilt consumed him. Still, in the end, he decided to marry Sophie. As my soul faded and seemed to be slipping away for good, he exposed Sophie's evil deeds at their wedding. In a final act of desperation, he dragged her and jumped down the building. She died instantly on the spot, but he didn't and went into a coma for life.

My boyfriend, Christopher Linden, was short of 20 thousand dollars for his medical treatment. To get the money as soon as possible, I participated in a rich man's game onboard a lavish cruise. I didn't bat an eye as I jumped into the ocean to search for a bracelet one of their female companions had dropped in the water. As I choked on the ocean water, I heard the man in the lead mock me, saying, "I've seen plenty of the dirty things people are willing to do for money, but you take the cake. You're even willing to give up your life for it." Someone teased, "Your girlfriend doesn't like money and is willing to forgo everything to care for you. Do you love her?" He snorted. "She's just a peasant from the countryside; I'm only fooling around with her. You have no idea how coarse her hands are—they disgust me whenever she touches me. How could I possibly fall for her?" I turned ashen at his words. He was Christopher, who was supposed to be wheelchair-bound. He was also supposed to be too broke for surgery. The peasant from the countryside he was talking about was me.