Kaiju No 8 Chapter 28

Yvette Skye has been diagnosed with depression. She thinks her parents will understand her situation, but all she gets is boundless mockery and doubt. After her affair with her sister’s boyfriend is found out, she dies in an accident. After her death, her biased parents suddenly start to regret their actions.

Elena Shaw is the wife of Henry Leone, the current head of the Monraven-based Mafia family in Newshire. She has been married to him for two years, but he has never once slept with her. Late one night, she inadvertently sees Henry relieving his desires while listening to a woman's voice. The voice belonged to Irene Shaw, her adopted younger sister and Henry's ex-fiancee. The year Elena turned 18, a DNA report changed both hers and Irene's fates. Elena is the real heir of the Shaw family, who had been taken at a young age and discarded abroad in Etolia. Meanwhile, Irene is the one who has taken her place in the Shaw family, receiving all of the love and glory that should've belonged to Elena. When Elena is brought back to the Shaw family, she replaces Irene as Henry's fiancee. However, Henry only marries her to take revenge against her for "ruining Irene's life". Even the fact that he had once saved her life turns out to be part of an elaborate lie. After learning the truth, Elena doesn't hesitate to leave. Once she disappears from Henry's world, the usually calm and collected Henry loses his mind.

Aurelia Giliam is her name now, what her original was she can’t remember. Her past life comes back to her in a painful headache. She somehow got into the body of the villainess of an otome game she enjoyed playing. This villainess caused trouble left and right for the heroine. But in the end, she always ends up getting abandoned by her family and dying in the end with no one to mourn her death. Now she was this villainess. What shitty luck.This Novel may have some subject that may trigger some people so be cautiousCover made with Picrew - https://picrew.me/image_maker/41329

En el mercado negro, mi padre escogió para mi hermana mayor y para mí a dos gemelos como guardaespaldas. Mi hermana, sin pensarlo, se quedó con el hermano alto y corpulento, dejándome al “mudo”, que apenas seguía con vida. Me dio lástima y lo mantuve a mi lado. Como no hablaba, lo llevaba de un lugar a otro buscando médicos y remedios. Como tenía una severa misofobia, yo siempre mantenía cierta distancia entre nosotros. Creía que había sufrido algún trauma y por eso era así. Hasta que los enemigos de mi padre nos secuestraron a mi hermana y a mí. Él me dejó atrás, eligiendo sin titubear morir para recibir la bala por mi hermana. Antes de morir, habló por primera vez; con los ojos enrojecidos le dijo a mi hermana: —Por fin puedes verme. Y a mí, en cambio, me dijo: —En la próxima vida, te lo ruego, no me elijas. Entonces entendí que no era mudo ni tenía misofobia. Lo de “mudo” y “misofobia” era solo hacia mí. Al abrir los ojos de nuevo, había vuelto al día en que elegíamos guardaespaldas. Esta vez, cumplí su deseo.

I had a cousin my age. She overslept and was late for her SATs. Yet, she pinned the blame on me, saying that I made her take some fever medication. She stole 300 thousand meant for Grandma's surgery, claiming it was to buy me a car. She even insisted I was at fault when she accidentally got pregnant and took the wrong abortion pills, leading to severe bleeding. She vehemently insisted I pushed her, causing her to fall. My boyfriend stood by her side time and time again. Eventually, he finally gave up on me, telling me it was over. My aunt shoved me down the stairs, accusing me of ruining her daughter's life. My boyfriend witnessed the whole thing, but he told them I had fallen by accident when the police came. I died without ever seeing justice for myself. When I thought my life was finally over, I opened my eyes. I had returned to the day my cousin stole the money meant for Grandma's surgery.

Llevo diez años casada con Nicolás. He conocido a cada una de sus novias. Cada vez que se aburría y quería cambiar, yo era su mejor pretexto para terminar con ellas: —Si te casas conmigo, vas a terminar igual que ella. Nos acostumbraríamos tanto el uno al otro que se perdería toda la emoción. En nuestro aniversario de bodas, yo le secaba las lágrimas a la universitaria que acababa de dejar, mientras él llevaba a su nueva conquista al cine. Cuando se acabó el paquete de pañuelos, fue como ver un reflejo de mi pasado. Así que le pedí el divorcio. Su reacción fue de una confusión genuina, algo raro en él. —¿No vas a esperar un poco más? Tal vez lo nuestro pudo funcionar. Le dediqué una sonrisa vaga, sin responder, y compré un boleto de avión para cruzar el océano. Ya no podía esperar a que cambiara, así que decidí dar el primer paso.

The evening air was biting cold, sending shivers down Cole's spine. She was sure she'd turn into an icicle when, without warning, Vincent gently scooped her up. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he settled them both across the length of the bed, pulling her close as he draped an extra blanket over their entwined forms. A warm blush bloomed across Cole's cheeks as she became acutely aware of their intimate position. But Vincent, with his steady composure, seemed entirely unbothered, simply relaxing into the bed’s softness. "Get some sleep," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble that resonated in her chest. Sensing her gaze, he added, "The power will be back on once the damage is repaired. So… just stay close to me until then." Cole took a deep breath, willing her racing heart to calm. Slowly, she let herself melt into his embrace, resting her head on his broad chest. The faint scent of spring blossoms and cypress swirled around her, a fragrance that felt both comforting and familiar. She nestled closer, the warmth of his body chasing away the chill as sleep began to tug at her eyelids. With each steady beat of his heart, Cole felt a sense of peace she hadn't known she needed. She smiled softly, the rhythm of his heartbeat the most beautiful melody, lulling her into the comfort of dreams. As survivors of a collapsed society, a group of doctors are the world's last hope for a cure. In order to protect each other and the future, they've worked in secret. Preserving resources which become scarcer year after year. Among these survivors, a pair of doctors endure challenges as a deadly contagion spreads. Against better judgment, an unexpected bond develops between them and their patient.

Sam and Nora were childhood friends whose bond was sealed with an arranged marriage. But soon after, Sam’s warmth fades, leaving Nora alone in a cold, distant relationship. His connection to Isabella, a woman from his past, casts a shadow over their marriage, fueling suspicions and driving them apart. After a heartbreaking divorce, Nora tries to rebuild her life, and just as her high school crush, Daniel, reappears, offering hope for a fresh start, Nora finds herself entangled in a secret that could change everything. As past emotions resurface and new complications arise, Nora must navigate the tangled web of love, loyalty, and deception. Can she move on from Sam, or is their story far from over?

On the surface, Connor Shaw appears to be the coolheaded, celibate follower of the Fyerian faith who lives like a monk. All of Jewelton knows that about him. Behind closed doors, however, he suffers from a severe case of compulsive sexual disorder. According to the traditions of the merpeople, a mermaid like Sylvie Waverly will have to marry the first human she meets and perform the ultimate act of intimacy 999 times. Masquerading as a lovesick doormat, Sylvie does everything she can to marry Connor. However, the only one in Connor's heart is Anna Larson, his first love. Everyone assumes Sylvie will get jealous, but all she wants is to complete her mission as soon as possible and return to her own world. Once Connor has bedded her 999 times, Sylvie leaves him without a second thought. By the time Connor realizes Sylvie is the mermaid who saved him all those years ago and that she alone can cure him of his compulsive sexual disorder, it is all too late.

Regresé a ese momento de mi vida en que mi tío político —con quien no tengo lazos de sangre— había sido drogado con esa droga afrodisíaca. Pero esta vez, no me convertí en su “antídoto”. En lugar de eso, marqué el número de la mujer que él realmente amaba. En mi vida anterior, me enamoré perdidamente de él. Cuando supe que había sido drogado, ignoré su súplica de llamar a su gran amor… y fui yo quien calmó su deseo. Un mes después, quedé accidentalmente embarazada. Por lo que él se vio obligado a casarse conmigo, pero el día de la ceremonia de nuestra boda, su amada —que había viajado al extranjero para olvidar su dolor— fue secuestrada y asesinada. Antes de morir, le hizo ciento noventa y nueve llamadas pidiendo ayuda. Él, que estaba ocupado cumpliendo con la boda, no contestó ninguna. Después… solo se quedó mirando aquellas llamadas perdidas, sin decir una palabra. Hasta que, el día que tenía que dar a luz, me encerró en el sótano. Le rogué que me llevara al hospital. Pero él solo sonrió, con esa frialdad que jamás olvidaré, mientras me veía morir lentamente, sin poder traer al mundo a nuestro hijo. Sus últimas palabras antes de que cerrara los ojos y muriera fueron: —Si no hubieras quedado embarazada, nunca me habrían obligado a casarme contigo. Si no fuera por ti, habría contestado las llamadas de Luz y, ella no habría terminado así. Tú… mereces morir. Y entonces, volví a abrir los ojos. Era ese mismo día, el día en que él había sido drogado con ese medicamento afrodisíaco.