Novel & Cerita Left 4 Dead 2 Common Infected

Cecilia Laurent’s husband, Lyon Melville, was known across North Ameria’s underground circles as the biggest womanizer. As the current Don of the Melville family, the women who wanted to get close to him would line up from New Yorke to Rondon. He never turned anyone away from his bed. Cecilia had been married to Lyon for five years. The taunting messages and intimate photos from his mistresses were enough to fill the storage on three of her encrypted phones. Cecilia showed no mercy. After the photos of Lyon in the car with a model were made public, she had the sports car dismantled completely. When he went out to sea with an actress to watch fireworks, she had the yacht blown to nothing. She blacklisted every woman who tried to cling to him. She overturned tables at family banquets. She risked every bit of dignity she had as the Melville family’s Donna in the hope that he would come back to her. Lyon allowed it. He let the rumors spread without denying anything. For five years, Cecilia was the joke of the family and the entire underworld. When the New Year came around, Cecilia received her first “gift” of the year. It was an intimate photo of Lyon in bed with another woman. At nearly the same time, a headline broke across New Yorke’s social media and tabloids. [Don Melville Meets Superstar Gianna Moretti Late at Night.] Inside the banquet hall of the family estate, the band continued to play. The champagne tower reflected a cold light. Everyone was waiting for her to blow up. Her assistant expertly pulled up the PR department’s number and held the phone out to her. “Donna Melville, the PR team is waiting for your instructions. Do you want us to make this bigger, like last time?” Cecilia looked at the man in the photo. Ten minutes ago, he had held their daughter on the balcony and watched the fireworks together. She suddenly smiled. “Take it down,” she said. “I don’t want to see this on the front page in two hours.” Everyone in New Yorke knew that the Melville family’s Donna loved like a madwoman. She could lose her temper just as easily. But this time, she did not lose control. She wanted a divorce.

Three months after the mysterious disappearance of my Alpha mate during his patrol, I found him in a bar near the border. He was cuddling his childhood friend, a she-wolf, laughing smugly. "I wanted to get rid of Bethany for ages! Thanks for giving me the idea to enjoy the freedom I've been looking forward to for a long time." The she-wolf nestled delicately against his chest, feeding him wine with her mouth. She asked him when he was planning to return—his answer was nonchalant. "I'll enjoy myself for another week and go back once Bethany's gone mad. That'll teach her not to be such a micromanager!" His close friends all praised them. "Great move! After this, the Luna will obey your every word." "The witch's disguise potion is so useful. No one recognized you all this time!" No one noticed me hiding in the shadows, watching how carefree he was. I called the pack's elder; using my position as the Luna, I announced that the Alpha was dead and that it was time to prepare for the election of the next Alpha.

Willow’s life was already a dangerous temptation, sharing a roof with four handsome, towering, and domineering stepbrothers who push every boundary between family and fantasy. But when her father is murdered and her home drenched in blood, on the same day a truth unfolded: her stepbrothers weren't always what they seemed, they were lycans and fate had cruelly marked her to them. Now on the run from traitors of her pack and hunted by an unknown enemy who wants her blood to break a curse she doesn't even have a slightest clue of, Willow is trapped between the pull of her stepbrothers' touch and the fear of surrendering to them completely. The more they protect her in her new surrounding, the more she falls for them and wants to explore her fantasies. They all made a promise to return Willow back to her pack when she's ready and reclaim her father's title as Alpha, but as jealousy began to creep in and the desire to share her diminished into a heated rivalry, can they fulfill their promise to her or this is to be a bond even the moon goddess might regret?

After discovering that Sienna Lyon had cheated on me, I gave her three chances. The first time, I pulled out the love letter that a shy 18-year-old Sienna had handed to me with trembling hands. When Sienna took the letter, her face was filled with remorse. Then, she deleted Matt Sauter’s contact from her WhatsApp right in front of me. The second time, I pulled up a video of Sienna and me exchanging our wedding vows from my phone’s gallery. Sienna watched in silence for a long time. Then, she ordered the security guard to turn away Matt, who had come to borrow money. She, who had never touched a drop of alcohol, got completely drunk that night. The third time was outside Matt’s hospital room, when I handed Sienna the stomach cancer report. Sienna lit a cigarette. The smoke made me cough uncontrollably. Yet her gaze never left Matt, who was in the room. The answer was already obvious. At that moment, I knew there would be no future for her and me.

The New Year's Day had barely started when my usually unromantic husband, Everett Grant, surprised me by booking a tour for me. The moment I settled into the bus, however, a line of text suddenly drifted across my vision. [Poor Tina! Her jerk husband booked a one-dollar tour for her, and then turns around and drops ten grand taking his mistress overseas.] I froze, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me, and kept chatting with the woman beside me as if nothing had happened. Then the messages showed up again. [Seriously? Tina's still smiling like an idiot. She has no idea this tour is really a trafficking ring. Once they get her to the island, she's done for!] [Oh, no! The bus leaves in three minutes. Is Tina actually gonna die like this? That's such a miserable way to go!] The bus had been quiet until the tour guide suddenly spoke up. "We'll be departing shortly. It's about an hour's ride. After that, we'll transfer to a boat to reach the island."

Being a Vampires pet is a fate no Human wants to endure… I was 6 years old when my parents were killed and I was taken to the pet store. A 6 year old cannot make choices for herself, so why am I punished for something my parents did? This question haunts me. Instead of playing outside with other kids, I was groomed and trained to obey my Master… I was to be the perfect pet. A maid, a sexual partner, a nurse, a blood bag… Anything my Master wanted, that was what I was expected to give. Obedience… That is what the Ringmaster prided herself on with her selection. She didn't get so lucky with me. Madame Vienna and I clashed hardcore. I learned quickly not to speak out of turn, but it didn't stop me from throwing a snarky remark here and there when I felt that I was healed enough to handle another punishment. This may be the only reason I lasted so long without being sold. But my time had come. I was on display for the world to see. Tattered and torn, but it didn't seem to matter to the man with the rose gold eyes who made the Vampires tremble without even saying a single word… What kind of creature was he to cause this type of reaction in an apex predator? I clenched my eyes shut as he brought me to the counter to check out. "Come, Ambrosia." The man purred after a moment. Shaking, I followed him, trying to take in any and every small detail of the outside world… "You can do this. Pretend it's just a bad dream… You know how to survive." I whispered to myself, as I followed my new Master to what was sure to be my death.

The night of my first shift at eighteen, my two older sisters brought home a fifteen-year-old orphaned boy. My Alpha sister seized the rare healing herbs I'd spent all my savings on — herbs meant to ease my first shift — and gave them to him instead. "You're strong enough," she growled. "You don't need such precious herbs." My Beta sister snarled with fury, pointing toward the door. "Get out! Don't come back!" I said nothing more, just grabbed my packed bag and left. They assumed I was merely throwing a tantrum, that I'd return in a few days. My sisters, finally free of my presence, took the orphan boy on an international vacation to the Caribbean islands I'd always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned to the pack, they were shocked to discover I'd accepted an offer from the neighboring pack's Head Healer. The position required fifteen years of isolated herbal research. I could never return home. That night, they fell apart.

I hated the heroine. Now I am her. When nineteen-year-old Ashley slips in the bathroom and dies with popcorn in her hair and a love letter unsent, she wakes up inside the worst romance novel she’s ever read as Arianna Salvatore, the pathetic, weepy female lead she couldn’t stand. The catch? Everyone thinks she faked a suicide attempt to win back Damian, her cruel, emotionally unavailable husband. And her sister? She’s gunning for him next. Ashley wants out. But the book has other plans and if she’s going to survive this twisted love triangle, she’ll have to rewrite the story herself. Goodbye, tragic heroine. Hello, chaos.

In the fifth year after my death, my wife, Yuna Lane, visited my apartment once more. She wanted me to take the blame for her childhood sweetheart's corporate fraud crimes. "Finn, Joe is going to be elected the chairman of the Trade Association. He can't afford any blemish to his reputation. Will you only be satisfied by thoroughly ruining him? "It's only two more years in prison! Joe said he'll give you a job once you're released. Stop being so ungrateful!" Her screams and shouts startled my neighbors. … When she banged on the door once more, the woman who lived across from me finally stepped out into the hallway. "Miss, stop banging on the door. He died long ago." "He's dead?" The woman sighed. "Yes. I hear it goes back to that fraud case years ago. The victim's family wasn't happy with the sentence, so as soon as Finn was released, they had him run over and killed.” My wife's face turned stark white upon hearing the truth. However, barely a few seconds passed before she let out a cold scoff, confident this was all just a scheme of mine. "Great. He's willing to fake his death just so he can get out of helping Joe. Does he really think I'm helpless and powerless against his schemes? Tell him that his parents are dead meat if he doesn't show up in three days!" She then violently kicked the metal grills of my door before strutting away on her high heels. The woman watched her walk away with bloodshot eyes, shaking her head in pity as she muttered under her breath, "Poor guy. His old man died soon after hearing of his death..."

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.