Lock Shock And Barrel From Nightmare Before Christmas

[Abandoned on our anniversary, I became the woman he called "too damaged" to be his Luna.] I gave Andre ten years. Five children gone. He walked in with his mistress—and a newborn—on our anniversary. He thought discarding me would make me vanish. He was wrong. The fortune he flaunts? I helped build it. The allies he trusts? They remember who stood by them first. I may have been his rejected wife, but I was never his shadow. He thinks discarding me was the end. He’s about to find out it was the beginning of his worst nightmare.

She wanted love. Then she met the man who wore a helmet and changed everything. Levrae Vause was a sweet and rich girl who only wanted someone to love her not her money. She moved far from home to start a new life. There, she met Jax. He was kind, funny, and charming. For five long years, Levrae gave him all her heart. But Jax was hiding something big. He never stopped loving his ex-girlfriend, Eleanor. He only dated Levrae because of her father’s money. When Levrae found out the truth on a Christmas cruise, her heart broke into tiny pieces. She ran to the bar, cried, and drank... and that’s when she met Kieran Snow a quiet man who wore a helmet and never showed his face. One wild night brought them together. Levrae asked Kieran to help her get revenge on Jax. The plan? Pretend to be a couple. Hold hands. Take cute pictures. Make Jax jealous. But fake feelings started to feel real. Kieran was gentle, kind, and always there when Levrae cried. She started falling for him without meaning to. He fell for her too but she was scared. Scared to love again. Scared he’d leave too. Then the real storm hit. Jax and Eleanor tried to ruin everything. Jax lied and told the police Kieran stole money. Eleanor tried to hurt Levrae, but Kieran drank the poison instead. Levrae was blamed and thrown in jail, crying and scared. But love never gives up. Kieran lived. The truth came out. Jax and Eleanor were both arrested. And Levrae? She was free and ready to stop running from love. At the end, Kieran didn’t give her a ring. He gave her a helmet with her name on it. And she said yes.

I despised Dante Moretti long before he slid that ring onto my finger. Arrogant. Controlling. The kind of boss who could ruin my day with a single clipped order. I hated the way he spoke to me. I hated the way he watched me more. But walking into my hometown with his ring and watching my ex-husband’s face drain of color felt wickedly perfect. The elders wanted to see real love before selling their land. So Dante and I lied. We played the sweet couple. Except Dante didn’t touch me like a man pretending. At the Christmas market, his hand slid down my spine and stopped right where it shouldn’t. At dinner, he whispered against my ear, “If he’s watching, spread your legs a little. Let him see who owns you now.” I should have slapped him. Instead, my body answered him before I could breathe. He kissed my temple too slow and held my waist too tight. When the lights dimmed, he murmured, “Open for me.” “Keep your eyes on me.” “I want you shaking for me, not for him.” Somewhere between hating him and wanting him to wreck me, everything blurred. Because the man who barked orders in boardrooms had me whispering his name in the dark, Christmas lights flickering over his bare shoulders while he swallowed every sound I made. My ex wanted me broken. Dante wanted me ruined, but only beneath him. And the worst part was how easily I let him. Santa didn’t bring me a miracle. He gave me a sin in a three piece suit and I tore the wrapping off with trembling hands. As book one ends, book two: ON YOUR KNEES MR. BILLIONAIRE starts immediately

The most reckless thing I had ever done was turn my back on the Moretti name and leave St. Clair Harbor with Lucian DeLuca when the Commission pushed his family out and he had nothing left. For three years, we lived in a drafty Brooklyn loft and ducked black Chevrolets on winter nights. Then Lucian fought his way back to the East Coast table. Everyone started calling him Mr. DeLuca again,and I became Mrs. DeLuca, the woman he swore he would always protect. Then Clara Voss appeared. She had once saved his life as a night nurse at an underground clinic, and Lucian never forgot it. He bought her a clinic, protected her family, and let her step, inch by inch, into the middle of our marriage. He said he still loved me, but he also said I was spoiled, jealous, and needed to learn my place. So I did. I signed the divorce papers and left New York behind. Mrs. DeLuca was dead. Evelyn Moretti had come back.

On Christmas Eve, my parents and my fiancé, Ivano Dominici, finally agree to accompany me to Iberion to see the aurora. But when I arrive there, they never show up no matter how long I wait. I send messages to ask. They reply helplessly that something urgent has come up at the last minute and tell me to go to the observation point and wait. I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me. When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave. Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides. Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness. The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!" The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages. I stare at the screen for a long time without moving. This is not the first time they break their promise to me because of Giada. But this time, I do not argue or make a scene. I simply type and send one line calmly in the comments, "I wish your family of four a Merry Christmas." I finally let go of my obsession and stop waiting for people who will never come to me. But when I quietly step away, the ones who cannot let go turn out to be them.

We agreed we were going to spend Christmas together as a family of three. I briefly stepped out to grab my daughter’s Christmas gift, but quickly realized that I had forgotten my keys. However, when I came back, I was locked outside the villa. I rang the doorbell countless times, but no one came to let me in. Through the glass window, I saw my daughter happily smiling in the arms of my wife’s childhood friend who had returned from overseas. “Uncle Jones, you smell so nice. Not like my dad. He’s always sweaty and smells so gross. I don’t even want to spend Christmas with him!” My wife, Lily Quinn, looked at them indulgently and agreed. “Your dad hasn’t seen much of the world. He really doesn’t know how to celebrate holidays properly.” I froze in place as my fingers turned cold. Yara turned and saw me outside the window. Her face was filled with disgust. “What are you staring at? Why are you standing outside like some monster? You almost scared me to death! You’re not like Uncle Jones at all. He’s so elegant and well-mannered!” However, ten years ago, I was a top sales director at a well-known multinational company. Back then, I had the chance to be transferred to New York. Yet Lily unexpectedly got pregnant and suffered severe reactions. She was at constant risk of miscarriage. I voluntarily gave up that opportunity to take care of her and our daughter. Now, that sacrifice had somehow become undeniable proof of my uselessness. I took a deep breath and threw the Christmas gift I had bought for my daughter into the trash. Then I messaged someone saved in my contacts as “Apprentice”: [Is that overseas position you mentioned a few days ago still available?] The reply came almost instantly: [Of course! Mr. Lane, as long as you’re willing to come back, you’ll always have a place waiting for you!]

An accident occurred during my graduation trip, causing me to get my left leg amputated. Surprisingly enough, Britney Lambert, the campus belle whom I had a crush on, proposed to me afterward. We were married for the next 30 years. Throughout our marriage, we respected and concerned each other properly. Before I passed away, I found out that all 199 love letters that I had written were thrown into the trash pile. Meanwhile, Britney kept the love letters another person had sent her in a safe. Obviously, she treated those letters like her most cherished treasure. When my illness took a turn for the worse, I could only lie on my sickbed with one foot in my grave. Britney arrived at my ward later than usual. Before I closed my eyes, I heard the final words she uttered to me. "Next time, don't save me anymore." I finally understood her real feelings for me. She'd rather die than be with me, it seemed. When I wake up again, I've returned to the timeframe before the graduation trip starts. This time, I decide not to have anything to do with Britney. We shall be strangers in this lifetime. But when the accident occurs once again, Britney is the one rushing toward me. "It's my turn to save you now."

The first time he met her, he misunderstood her, thinking that she was the type of woman who only knew about fame and money, and also accidentally "ate" her unexpectedly. - The second time we met, he was the cold general manager, and she was his 24-hour personal secretary. Even though she knew his name on the outside, her heart was still given to him when. - Carwyn Hiddleston, CEO of the corporation, handsome, outstanding talent. Because once he failed in love and was betrayed by the person he loved the most, he never believed in love again, since he brought himself into life, only cold and indifferent. However, she just kissed him once and made his heart flutter for the first time, his heart that had been frozen for so long suddenly melted away. - She appeared in front of him again but became his secretary. Can her presence warm his heart and make him love again? Can she have his love?

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

On the anniversary of my mother’s death, my girlfriend told me she had to work overtime. However, her first love later posted something on social media: [Thanks to Camelia for coming to celebrate my birthday with me!] My chest tightened and my hands shook as I called her to demand an explanation. She replied calmly, “It’s Grayson’s 25th birthday today. It’s important. I didn’t want to miss it.” That was it. I let out a bitter laugh and looked down at the cancer diagnosis report in my hand. It was alright. I would be dead soon anyway.