Life After Death A

The music made the speakers tremble, the floor vibrated with the rumble of the sound and the jumps of the crazy people. Each one in their own world, dancing together, dancing separately. Enjoying music, company and alcohol. I danced alone, with a drink in hand. Gliding, moving my hips to the rhythm of the music, not paying much attention to anything or anyone around me. Just enjoying that moment of inner peace that I was needing and he was giving it to me. It was a respite, a window that I opened myself in my own cage to let in air and I knew that as soon as I left the club the window would close and I would lock myself back in my world without fresh air. Therefore, he enjoyed everything he could. Alone. With eyes closed. Sweating the bad energy that others left me and breathing the good vibes that I had to give myself. They were approaching me. I drove them away. They invited me. I rejected them. they spoke to me I silenced them. I just wanted to dance and they were going to have to respect that. It was amazing how loud music could be my oxygen tank. It silenced my thoughts, freed me from tensions. There was nothing more relaxing in my life than dancing with my eyes closed and the volume turned up to a thousand. I twirled, I jumped, I wiggled, I hummed, and I sang. The brightly colored lights flickered making it difficult to see, but it was what I liked the most, going blind for an instant, forgetting that I had the ability to see the world, a false, disastrous and difficult world.

My sister-in-law, Alicia, insisted that her son was a chosen fighter, blessed by God and immune to harm. The truth was far darker: every injury meant for him was being transferred onto my daughter. His congenital heart disease disappeared overnight. While most children his age were still carefully protected, he was already taking part in extreme sports and never suffered so much as a scratch. Meanwhile, my once-healthy daughter weakened day by day. She began to suffer unexplained fractures throughout her body. There was not a single place left uninjured. It was impossible not to see the connection. When I voiced my suspicions to my husband, Jeff Charlton, and my mother-in-law, Kelly Freeman, they dismissed me as delusional. They accused me of being jealous that Alicia had given birth to a prodigy, while I had nothing but a "worthless" daughter. Later, Alicia's son completed a trek across the Saharain Desert and became an overnight sensation, a child star adored by millions. At the same time, my daughter suddenly collapsed from heatstroke and died without warning. Alicia went live on her platform, accusing me of making false claims out of envy. Her followers believed every word. They hunted me down and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment Alicia first proclaimed her son a miracle child. This time, I was no longer a powerless mother. As a specialist doctor, I calmly pulled on my gloves. "Alicia," I said with a smile, "Let me examine my nephew and see if he's truly cured."

“So, you really think I did what Fiona accused me of? I know it sounds bad, and it’s almost believable, but I’d never get into Fiona’s bed. If you could just slow down a minute, I’ll explain,” Jordan said. “Let’s assume Fiona is wrong. Where are you coming from right now? It just proves her allegations against you. As you can see, I’m busy. Please leave! I’d like to change my clothes,” I said firmly. His expression changed. “Ella, you’re kidding, right? I’ve literally seen all of you. In fact, I might have seen your guts when I’m between your legs,” he chuckled softly. “My point is, I love you, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. So, please sit, and let’s talk,” Jordan said, walking toward me, grabbing the bag I had packed, and shoved it aside. Ella’s life of misfortune takes a shocking turn when a one-night stand with multimillionaire Jordan Denver leaves her pregnant. Jordan, who had been betrayed deeply by his ex, falls in love with Ella, but their happiness stands on the edge of a cliff, especially with an obsessed ex-girlfriend like Fiona threatening to destroy everything. Their world spirals further when Jordan is involved in a fatal shootout and loses parts of his memory, forgetting everything about Ella. In the midst of all this chaos, Ella’s freedom is threatened when she learns she might go to jail for a murder she’s been accused of. Will Jordan remember the woman who captured his heart and save her before it’s too late, or will Ella’s life come crashing down for good?

Rara, yang hidupnya tidak pernah bisa seperti hidup orang lain. Keluarganya gagal, kisah cintanya tidak pernah berhasil. Lalu apa yang dilakukan Rara setelah itu? Akankah dia dapat melanjutkan hidup dengan baik? Atau dia menyerah begitu saja?

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.

Love is hard. It's even harder when you're a plus size girl. It's even harder still when the only person you've ever truly loved just uses you. Being loved when it's convenient destroys you. What makes it the hardest though is when your soul mate is a harbinger of death. Letitia didn't have the most supportive mother growing up and her ex fiance Mark had no problem hurting her left and right. But when Letitia falls for Aiden things get complicated. She's forced to chose between his world and hers.

Olivia’s best friend Sandra turned against her, spoke ill about her to her husband, convinced him that she caused her fall that resulted in her miscarriage, stole from him and that she has been stealing from him for months. Also, that Olivia has been secretly taking prevention pills because she didn’t want to have a child with Nick. She convinced him that Olivia was still in love with her high school sweetheart, Marcus. In his anger, Nick sent his wife to prison and moved on with his wife’s best friend, Sandra. Will their relationship last, was Olivia going to get her revenge and her husband back?

Tyrell has always been one for being on his own. He meet someone and then he realises how much love has to offer.

Dua-duanya sama-sama sayang, bahkan sayang banget. Namun, apa jadinya jika kedua orang yang sama-sama menjadi budak cinta itu harus berakhir karena masalah dari salah satu pihak. Apakah yang akan terjadi setelah hubungan mereka berakhir? Akankah mereka benar-benar mengikhlaskan atau tidak?

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."