Medusa's Son

On the day our son, Lucas Smith, turned one month old, my husband, Xavier Smith, learned that his precious childhood sweetheart, Wendy Xander, had been kidnapped. The kidnappers made an outrageous demand. They wanted him to personally cut off our son’s legs. He acted indifferent, as if it didn’t matter. But behind my back, he drugged my drink with a heavy dose of sleeping pills. Dazed and barely able to stay awake, I forced myself toward the nursery. That was when I overheard his conversation with his bodyguard. “Mr. Smith, there’s a good chance Miss Xander staged this whole kidnapping. Are you really going to do this? What if something happens to Lucas?” “It’s just a kid. If he dies, he dies. “Even if this is all fake, I won’t take a single risk when it comes to Wendy.” My hands trembled as I gripped the doorframe. So this was what I meant to him. Eight years together. His own flesh and blood. And none of it mattered more than Wendy.

Sa mata ng mga mamamayan ng Lungsod ng San Jose, si Cyrus ay isang anino lamang—isang lalaking walang nakaraan, walang ambisyon, at isang "dustang manugang" na palamunin ng pamilyang Sandoval. Sa loob ng tatlong taon, tinitiis niya ang bawat pangungutya, pag-alipusta, at pagmamaliit mula sa kaniyang mga biyenan at sa mapagmataas na pinsan ng kaniyang asawa na si Marco. Ang tanging dahilan ng kaniyang pananatili ay ang kaniyang wagas na pagmamahal kay Claire Sandoval, ang babaeng nagbigay sa kaniya ng tahanan sa kabila ng kaniyang pagiging "basura" sa paningin ng lipunan. ​Ngunit ang lahat ay magbabago nang mahanap siya ni Arturo, ang tapat na alalay ng pinakamayamang pamilya sa buong mundo. Sa isang madilim na eskinita, mabubunyag ang katotohanang sampung taon nang nakabaon: Si Cyrus ay hindi isang pulubi, kundi si Cyrus Villarreal, ang nag-iisang tagapagmana ng Villarreal Global Holdings. Ang kaniyang amnesia ay hindi aksidente, kundi bunga ng isang malupit na pagkakanulo mula sa sarili niyang kadugo na nagnais na agawin ang kaniyang trono. ​Sa halip na agad na magpakitang-gilas, pipiliin ni Cyrus na manatili sa kaniyang low-profile na buhay. Gagamitin niya ang kaniyang katalinuhan, ang kaniyang walang limitasyong yaman, at ang kaniyang mga lihim na koneksyon upang protektahan si Claire at durugin ang mga kaaway nito nang hindi siya nakikilala. Sa pamamagitan ng mga "frontman" sa negosyo, itatayo niya ang isang imperyo sa likod ng mga anino habang nananatiling tagalinis ng sahig sa harap ng mga Sandoval. Ito ay isang mahabang labanan ng talino, estratehiya, at pagtitimpi. Hanggang kailan niya kayang itago ang kaniyang koronang ginto sa likod ng isang basahan? Sa mundong ang lahat ay nasusukat sa pera, si Cyrus ang magpapatunay na ang pinaka-aba ay siya palang Hari na nagmamay-ari ng lahat.

My son has an aortic dissection and needs surgery. My husband is a cardiac expert, but I don't bother calling him. Instead, I take a cab straight to the hospital. In my past life, upon begging my husband, he came home with the ambulance to pick our son up. He also arranged for our son to be admitted. But because he forgot to bring his phone, his childhood sweetheart died of a heart attack when she couldn't reach him. He went missing for three months and suddenly returned one day, looking perfectly normal. He even volunteered to prepare the meal on our son's birthday. It turned out he only wanted to poison the food. He strangled me and cut my neck open. "You forced me to come home to pick our son up. Ciara wouldnt' have died if I'd answered her call that day. You and your son are murderers—you have to pay with your lives!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my son has an aortic dissection. This time, my husband manages to answer his childhood sweetheart's phone. But why is he on his knees before me and begging for forgiveness?

My husband had lost interest in me for many years. My son's classmate taught me how to flirt with my husband. However, when he was doing so, he placed a hand on my butt and said, "Open up, Mrs. Jackson!"

I had anemia, so getting pregnant was not easy for me. My husband and I tried for ten years, and we finally had a son. When our son turned eight, he got into a car accident. The doctor said that he needed a blood transfusion, but his blood type was A. Both my husband and I were type O. My husband started to suspect that the child was not his and did a paternity test right away. The result showed that the boy really was not his son. I could not believe it and asked for another test, but the result was the same. My mother-in-law accused me of cheating and called me horrible names. My husband asked for a divorce and told me to leave with nothing except my son. We were kicked out of the house and ended up living in a cave in the mountains. A sudden rainstorm caused a landslide, and my son and I were buried alive inside. After I died, my spirit stayed near my husband. I heard him talking on the phone. “Don’t worry. I made her leave with nothing. We’ll get our marriage certificate tomorrow.” It turned out he had been seeing another woman for a while and had planned everything to make me leave with nothing except my son. What I could not figure out was how he managed to fake the paternity test in front of everyone. Luckily, I returned to the past. I woke up on the day of my son’s car accident.

I’d just wrapped up a short trip with my daughter, Elara. On the way back, I figured I’d swing by the Hale, our family’s casino, to check in on my son, Cassian. Maybe grab dinner together. I didn’t expect to be mistaken for his latest fling. Correction: not mistaken—accused. Violently. “You think you can just waltz in here like some queen?” she hissed. “I’m the woman Cassian loves! What kind of whore are you? And is this your bastard daughter with him?” She locked us in the basement. No phone. No light. Just concrete walls and the stench of mildew and madness. Then came the fists. She slapped me across the face—again and again—until my skin stung and my ears rang. When that didn’t satisfy her, she pulled a gun and aimed low. The bullet tore through my knee. I bit back a scream, shielding Elara with my body. “You need to die, whore,” she spat. One of her men hesitated, “We should at least tell Mr. Hale first. If we are going to kill these two in his casino.” Lila of course said no. But that man brought Cassian anyway. My son stepped into this dark little room like it was any other Tuesday—until he saw me. His whole body went still. The blood drained from his face. And then, in the smallest, most broken voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “Mom? What are you doing in my basement?”

"Here are the leftovers for you, hurry up and finish them!" Marcel glanced at the plates filled with scattered rice, chicken bones with a little meat still attached, and vegetable soup with only the soup left. "Eat on the floor, as usual." Marcel looked down and looked at his wife, Shirley. "You have the nerve to tell me to finish your brothers' leftovers?" asked Marcel in a protesting tone, as he frowned reluctantly at the plates. The oppression Marcel experienced made him want to end his life by downing his parents' formula. However, instead of dying, he was transformed into a powerful being! Will his wife's family apologize?

Durant les premiers mois de sa grossesse, lorsque Zora souffrait de nausées matinales, Ezrah passait son temps avec son premier amour, Piper. Le jour où Zora eut un accident et appela Ezrah à l'aide, il lui répondit qu'il était occupé. En réalité, il était en train d'acheter des chaussures pour Piper. À cause de cet accident, Zora perdit son bébé. Pourtant, pendant toute son hospitalisation, Ezrah ne se présenta pas une seule fois à son chevet. Elle savait déjà qu'il ne l'aimait plus, mais ce fut la goutte d'eau qui fit déborder le vase. Son cœur brisé ne pouvait plus supporter tant de souffrance. Quand Ezrah rentra enfin à la maison, quelques jours après la sortie de Zora de l'hôpital, il ne retrouva pas la femme qui l'accueillait toujours avec un sourire et prenait soin de lui. Zora se tenait en haut de l'escalier, le visage glacé, et lui lança d'une voix tranchante : - Bonne nouvelle, Ezrah ! Notre bébé est mort dans l'accident. Il n'y a plus rien entre nous, alors divorçons. L'homme qui prétendait ne plus avoir aucun sentiment pour elle, qui s'était montré distant et lui avait même demandé le divorce à deux reprises, fut soudain saisi de panique.

Trahie. Brisée. Prête à tout réduire en cendres. Isabella Rossi pensait tout avoir : un mari milliardaire issu de la mafia, un bébé en route, une vie de luxe. Mais lorsqu'elle surprend Alessandro DeLuca avec sa maîtresse et que ses mensonges mènent à une attaque brutale qui lui coûte leur enfant, son monde s'écroule. Dans un monde de mensonges, de balles et de secrets de famille, Isabella parviendra-t-elle à renaître de ses cendres pour détruire l'empire d'Alessandro, ou son cœur la trahira-t-il en premier ?

If you and his first love were in a car accident at the same time, who would your husband save? When Hunter Ford lifted his first love into his arms and walked away, Stella Spencer felt her life slipping away. Along with her unborn child, her heart died in that moment too. It began as a transaction, a deal that finally allowed Stella to marry the man she loved. But in the eyes of the world, she was the villain who tore Hunter away from his first love. Stella believed time would change everything. She believed devotion could soften a man’s heart. That if she waited long enough, he would eventually turn around and see her. She was wrong. It was not until she buried the child she had carried for three months that she finally woke up. “Let’s get a divorce.” One signed agreement ended everything between them. Three months later, beneath the glittering lights of an elite gala, Stella stood on stage to accept an award. In the crowd, Hunter froze. After a brief pause, he smiled calmly and said to those around him, “Yes. That’s my wife.” “Your wife?” Stella smiled and pressed the divorce papers into his hand. “Sorry, Mr. Ford. I’m your ex-wife.” The man who had always been cold and composed finally lost control. His eyes reddened. His voice shook. “What do you mean by ex-wife? I never agreed to that.”