Lirik Why Don T We 8 Letters

When I'm six months pregnant, my mate, Rylan Silverclaw, still forces me to fight. He says it's my duty as Luna, yet when the council presents the honor medal, he locks me up. He makes my stepsister accept the glory meant for me. When I finally arrive at the ceremony, I hear Rylan whisper to her, "The medal is just the beginning. Once Thalia gives birth to the heir, the Luna title will be yours too." Later, rogue wolves attack us. My father and Rylan risk their lives to protect my stepsister. I'm the one left behind. I'm buried under rubble with half my ribs shattered. I lost my pup. I hand our dead pup to Rylan and walk away from the pack forever. Now, he regrets everything.

On the night of my wedding, my husband, the Don, kissed my trembling body while telling me not to be afraid. However, the next second, he personally handed me off to 30 men. "Your virginity is theirs for five million per person." I screamed when I woke up from the dream. Fortunately, it was just a nightmare. But on the day of our wedding, I saw a man with a scar on his face sitting next to the stage. He was one of the men from my dream. I accidentally heard him talking on the phone, "That's five million well spent. I can't wait to take her to bed." As I turned to make my escape, I heard the footsteps behind me getting nearer. My phone suddenly rang, and it was Owen Thorne calling me. "We're coming for you, honey."

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.

My husband Seth and I switched bodies on the night of our wedding anniversary. When I went to the office posing as him, his colleague Jenny whispered sultrily into my ear, "Why haven't you divorced your wife yet?" I looked at the counter on my wrist. It displayed ninety-nine points—that meant we only needed to gain one more point to switch back to our own bodies. I smiled. “Points have been reset to zero! Reset! Reset! Reset!”

Five years after I broke up with my childhood sweetheart, Jason Thorne, my ALS progressed to its terminal stage. Since I can't receive any treatment for my disease at all, I decide to fly back to my hometown and wait for my death to come. Meanwhile, Jason has been dating a woman named Freya Tyler for five years. In fact, they are about to get married. Freya is even pregnant with Jason's child. We bump into each other in the hospital's garden. When Jason sees the blanket around my shoulders, he scoffs at me. "You're already this weak, and yet you're here all alone. It seems that your doctor boyfriend isn't taking good care of you at all. Then again, you did cheat on me with that guy. It only makes sense that your new relationship won't end well at all." Freya smiles brightly at me. "That's enough, Jason. It's not like everyone is capable of taking care of me very well, just like you do. "Our wedding will be held at the base of a snow mountain in Selvaria. You simply must attend our wedding, Ms. Moyer." As I gaze at Jason's cold and arrogant expression, I do my best to suppress my feelings of longing and guilt. Instead, I reply calmly, "No, thank you. I'm not interested in my ex-boyfriend's life. I'm only staying here for a short while. In the future, I will never come back ever again." Jason merely huffs before turning on his heel and walking away. But when I depart from this world, he loses his will to live too.

He killed my father. Then he married me. On our wedding night, Alessandro Romano handed me a gun. "Shoot me, or let me fuck you like you're mine.”I should have pulled the trigger. Instead, I let him tear my dress off. Let him back me against the door. Let him put his fingers inside me while he whispered every filthy thing he wanted to do to my body. I came so hard I saw stars. Then I found the police report. Proof he murdered my father when I was twelve. Proof he's been watching me ever since. I ran. Got pregnant with his baby. Hide in my stepbrother's house. Big mistake. Now the monster who gave me the best orgasm of my life is hunting me down. And my body won't stop remembering how good his hands felt on my throat.

After writing an essay about the future I wanted, I made a desperate appeal to my parents, just as Aaron Wade was likely doing in the hall of a business his family owned. The appeal lasted two days. Our demand was simple: annul the engagement between us. Others might have found this confusing, but I knew exactly why it mattered. In my previous life, I married Aaron and gave him everything. I devoted my career to him and stood at the peak of his business empire. He repaid me by forcing me to take the fall for Rebecca, a so-called heiress. I was arrested and sent to prison. "Had you not forced us into an engagement the moment you got into Iale University, I would have ended up with her instead," he sneered. "You owe her this, Bernadette. It's time you paid up." Even my own parents joined in. "You robbed Becky of what she deserves. Think of this as your divine retribution!" They had supported the engagement back then. Rage overwhelmed me and triggered a cardiac arrest. I died on the spot. While my body lay cold in the morgue, Aaron and Rebecca held a lavish wedding at a five-star hotel to celebrate their union. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I had written about the future I wanted. Now I knew what that future looked like. It had none of these people in it. This time, I would live for myself.

In the last six months, I have been away for work. But when I come home, I find out that my wife, Vanessa Hudson, is now three months pregnant. She insists that she hasn't been cheating on me. But her ex-boyfriend's post online tells a different story. Harold Quinton writes, "Thank you, Vanessa, for fulfilling my dream of becoming a father. You've worked so hard through ovulation, egg retrieval, and implantation, mother of my child." Harold has a very severe case of erectile dysfunction. The moment I find out my wife has gotten pregnant with another man's test tube baby, I feel bitter inside. I dial my boss' number and say to her, "I'm willing to take on the overseas general manager position that you offered me previously." Then, I turn to Vanessa and say, "Let's get a divorce."

When my husband, Drake Connor, posted a photo of me on social media, this random woman mistook me for his mistress. She confronted me in the street, a baby in her arms and a crowd of relatives and friends in tow, ready to teach me a lesson. "You shameless tramp! How dare you seduce my husband! "I’ll beat you to death, you disgusting woman!" The crowd beat me, smashed my car, and ripped my clothes. I left that encounter bruised and battered, suffering a concussion and a fractured arm. In the end, I called the police and demanded justice. I had a divorce agreement drawn up and threw it in Drake's face. "If it weren’t for me, you’d be begging in the streets! And now you dare to hide a woman and child from me? "Get out! Don’t expect a penny from me!"