Novel & Cerita Left 4 Dead 1 & 2

Julian didn’t get cold feet. He got on a plane, back to Selene, back to the woman he swore was history, and left Mira to realize, in real time, in front of everyone she knew, that three years meant absolutely nothing to him. Atherton doesn’t forget things like that. It doesn’t even try. So when Sebastian Calloway offers his name, Mira takes it. She signs the contract, lifts her chin, and tells herself it’s just survival. A cold arrangement between two people who have never liked each other. He tells her he wants it real. She almost believes him. She hates herself a little for that. Because Sebastian isn’t doing this out of kindness. Mira is useful, her name, her influence, the quiet authority she carries without even trying. A woman still raw from humiliation is a woman who won’t look too carefully at the hand she’s reaching for. He knows that. He counts on it. What he doesn’t count on is actually falling for her. Initially it seemed like he was overthinking things, but it happened at once, the way she rebuilds herself without complaint, the way she challenges him without flinching. By the time Sebastian realizes he stopped strategizing and started feeling. Then Julian returns. Regretful. He made a mistake. Mira doesn’t take him back. That’s when he stops being sorry and starts being dangerous. Bitter and bruised, Julian finds an unlikely ally in Tracy, Sebastian’s best friend, who has her own quiet grievances and her own score to settle. Together they become exactly what Mira and Sebastian’s fragile, complicated marriage cannot afford, two people who know exactly where to press to make everything collapse.

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

When I went to pick Diana Grant up, she just tossed the car keys toward me. Dangling from the silver ring was a plush white bear pendant. I paused, knowing that she had never kept a keychain or a decorative charm on her keys. Once I slid into the driver's seat, the entire alignment felt off. The seat had clearly been adjusted. "Did you let someone else drive your car?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. Dazed from the alcohol, she offered a dismissive shrug. "Yeah. I lent it to an employee for a quick business trip." I didn't press further. The next morning, the chime of the doorbell broke the silence of the house. When I pulled the door open, a shy, clean-cut young guy was standing on the porch. He blinked, then forced a sheepish smile and handed over a cup of coffee. "Hi," he stammered. "I'm just here to drop off a fresh coffee for Ms. Grant." But my attention wasn't on the coffee. My gaze dropped to his left hand. Twirling lazily around his index finger was a set of keys, and swinging from the metal loop was the same white bear pendant. I took the coffee cup from his hand and quietly closed the door. In the room, Diana's phone lit up on the table. A new notification flashed across the lock screen. It was a message that read: [Diana, I just met your husband. He looks kind of scary. Coffee was delivered safely anyway. Try to drink less alcohol next time, okay?] I picked up the phone and pulled up the video camera. With the recording running, I held the coffee cup over the kitchen sink and slowly poured the warm liquid down the drain. Then I uploaded the recorded video to Diana's social media, broadcasting it to her entire social circle. The caption read: [Thanks for the concern, but she doesn't drink coffee.]

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me. But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed. He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating. At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class." I didn't argue with him. I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too." Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me." I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years. Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe. But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers. The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

On the first April Fool's after my death, my husband, Timothy Ludd, once again tries to make me take the blame for his intern's alleged destruction of evidence and bribery. He storms into my food stall, only to find that it has changed owners. Feeling shocked, he goes to the nursing home where I volunteer after my release from prison to confront me. The nursing home director says, "Quinn Sutton? She's been dead for six months." However, my dear husband refuses to believe it and returns to the welfare home where I have lived for 16 years. "Make sure Quinn comes out to see me. "This has become a huge scandal. The Department of Justice's investigation team will be coming tomorrow. Doesn't she have her pregnancy as leverage? Pregnant women can apply for exemptions. She'll only get a suspended sentence. "I've already pulled all the strings. She's guaranteed to benefit from this deal. She shouldn't push her luck!" The welfare home director's eyes well up with tears. "Quinn is dead. Don't bother looking for her. She's been dead for six months."

Three days after my daughter was born, my husband was killed by a car while running to the store for some groceries. I was so devastated I passed out. When I came to, his funeral was already over, and a stranger was standing in my living room. "I'm your husband's twin brother. I'll be around to help take care of you and the baby." Later, I locked myself in the bathroom with his urn, sobbing uncontrollably, when I overheard his buddies talking through the open window. "Dude, you’re so cool blooded. Inventing a twin brother just to dodge diaper duty? What's next—triplets and quadruplets coming out of the woodwork too?"

Once, I was their princess. And then Kylee showed up. Having been in the foster system the majority of her childhood, my parents treated her like a charity case and gave her everything. At 13 years old, Kylee was adopted. Then the "accidents" started happening. Kylee would be walking past me and would suddenly fall over. "Oh, Mom! Sarah didn't mean it! Shes just having a hard time adjusting to her new sister!" Eventually, her little accusations turned into straight out bullying and, well, I'm sure you can figure out the rest. I did my best to ignore Kylee. I got a job as early as the law would allow. I saved my money. I got the best grades in school, becoming the class valedictorian. My parents didn't notice, though. They were too busy playing into Kylee's 5-year-long pity party. Don't worry, though. Soon I'll be gone to Harvard and you can have the happy family you wanted. I don't need you, anyways.

She had been in love with him for practically all her life, but he only saw her as his little sister. She could only hope that he would one day look at her the way she wanted him to. She thought those dreams had come true after a passionate night together, only for him to accuse her of the most horrible and tell her he wants nothing to do with her. Heartbroken, she gathered the rest of her pride and left to reclaim her self-worth. Unknowingly, she had left with the CEO's heart as he frantically searched for her, wanting to make things right. **** “Come back to me, princess. And I'll love you the way you deserve.” I let out a laugh. “I'm sorry, big brother. I am no longer that stupid girl who had a crush on you.”

My mother, Eleanor Leigh, is pregnant with fraternal twins, but we aren't developing well. The doctor recommends terminating my younger sister, Juliette Vance, whose chances of survival are slim. Since Dad, Thomas Vance, suffers from azoospermia and can never have children again, I, Julian Vance, become the pampered, only child of the family. For my first birthday celebration, Mom and Dad gift me a house and a vehicle. Every day, they dress me up like a porcelain doll and specifically enroll me in ballet classes to elevate my poise. They even carry me everywhere I go, terrified that I might fall and end up with a scar. I only learn I'm a boy in elementary school when I get laughed at for entering the girls' restroom, and later learn it in a science lesson. Because of my classmates' constant bullying, I break down in tears, begging Mom not to make me wear dresses anymore. However, she, who is usually so gentle with me, suddenly flies into a rage and slaps me hard across the face right in the middle of the street. "What's going to happen to your sister if you don't wear dresses? It's your fault for being born a jinx! You killed your sister! "If you hadn't stolen her nutrients, she would be alive and well right now! Our family business would be booming as well. You'll either be our daughter for the rest of your life, or you can go to hell right this instant!" It turns out Juliette and I are the children Mom and Dad begged the heavens for, and while Juliette's a lucky charm, I'm a jinx. I wear long hair and dresses because I'm Juliette's body double. I sprint away in tears, only to be sent flying by a car running a red light. As my consciousness slips away, I wish with all my heart to go back to when Mom first found out she was pregnant. This time, I'll be the one to be reduced.

Half a year into my death, my wife, Serena Beckett, wants me to donate my kidney to William Clark, her heavily ill first love. Serena smashes my tombstone like a madwoman in the graveyard. Then, she kicks the tokens aside. "He's dead? What sort of sick joke is this? Jason Shaw is a coward! He definitely doesn't have the guts to die! "I think he just doesn't want to save William's life! To think that he actually roped you guys into putting up this act just to pretend that he's actually dead!" Serena is furious, to say the least. The graveyard's staff members are so frightened that they dare not speak up at all. A newly-recruited staff member finally muster the courage to say something. "Ma'am, Mr. Shaw really is dead. Apparently, he died in the donation surgery that had taken place half a year ago… He—" "Shut up!" Serena slaps him while cutting him off. "You really think I'll believe that bullshit? Tell him that if he doesn't show his face in three days, his little sister can forget about getting off the surgical table alive! I mean what I said!" With a dark expression, Serena turns on her heel and leaves angrily afterward. But the staff member looks toward another tombstone not far away. Then, he lets out a heavy sigh. "It's a shame that his sister has already died due to her illness taking a turn for the worse."