Never Let Me Go Pdf

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

After an abrupt stampede, Freya was hastily taken to the hospital, yet her mate Kingsley found solace in another woman. For three long years, Freya harbored the hope that her love would thaw Kingsley's icy heart, but alas, her yearning proved to be nothing more than a jest. She observed Kingsley showering the other woman with affection, and now, weary of unrequited devotion, she resolved to depart, vowing to reject him. However, the aloof Kingsley underwent an astonishing transformation, assuming a new persona as he fervently pursued Freya.

A Biker/Billionaire/Mafia Romance With my fingers gliding across his flesh, I kept contact as I moved around to his back and across the broad expanse between each shoulder. Afterward, I ran my fingers in a soft caress over the nape of his neck—God, how I'd always wanted to touch him in this way—and then began making my way over to the opposite shoulder, shortly coming around to his collarbone. Afterward, with a pivot of my fingertips, and practiced turns of my feet, I came a full one hundred and eighty degrees, facing him again. As I gazed into his eyes, my breathing increased, and I felt myself give a small pant as I moved my fingers down to his chest... Shattered-Way down we Go" - A heart-wrenching tango of love, loss, and redemption unfolds as Marlowe Mills, the daughter of the president for The Sons of Morning Star MC, is secretly in love with Torin Montero, a member of her father's MC, who becomes her father's rival and her silent protector. However her love is torn apart by a brutal betrayal. When the embers of their past reignite, Marlowe finds herself in the treacherous embrace of a Mob boss's son, entangled in a web of obsession and danger. But fate has a twist in store: Torin lives, scarred and driven by his own vendetta. As the lines between love and vengeance blur, Marlowe must choose between the comfort of the shadows or the tumultuous dance of destiny.

York Langston locked me up for six months. Word on the street was he dropped over 100 million to buy me my own private island. Security here? Tight enough to rival the White House. Even a bird that flew past the area would get shot down on sight. But what nobody knew… All that luxury people envied? To me, it was just a gilded cage. It wasn't until he found a woman who looked almost like me that his interest began to fade. One day, she stormed the island with a gang at her back while he was away. She slashed my tendons and carved up my face with a blade before locking me inside a cage with a rabid dog. I was barely breathing by the time York finally found me. "York, this woman thought she could fool you by imitating me? She must be a spy! You'll have to flay her alive if you want her to talk!"

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."

After fleeing the country, Julianne Averee Lustre is living the luxurious Parisian life along with her son. She run the beauty industry like nobody's business. Though she's a bit cautious. She doesn't want him to find her. Unfortunately for her, Hunter Grayson Huntington had found her. Trying to flee again, but he already caught up to her.

Jeanica gadis berumur 27 tahun yang tak kunjung menikah. Ia memiliki seorang pacar yang sangat dia sayangi, namun tidak mau menikahinya. Suatu hari, dia dipaksa pindah orang tuanya ke sebuah apartemen dan tinggal bersama seorang laki-laki bernama Arion, Arion itu adalah anak teman baik orang tuanya. Seiring berjalannya waktu, Jeanica tahu kalau pacarnya selingkuh dengan sahabatnya. Saat itulah, dia mulai membuka hatinya pada Arion.

My blood ran cold. Not just because of the words, they’d done worse than the scheme. They mocked me. Rewrote my pain as a punchline. Danced on the grave of my dignity like it was confetti. I staggered back from the door, suddenly aware of how my hands were trembling. Of how my chest rose and fell like I was still being dragged underwater. I could still feel it, the betrayal. The nights I cried myself sick. The baby. The blood. The gaslighting. The cold stares. The silence. No, this wasn’t just a memory. It was a resurrection. I pressed my hand to my chest, grounding myself. This body? This moment? It was mine now. Not theirs. Not his. If this was a curse, I’d break it. If this was a second chance? I’d weaponize it. Let them laugh. Let them bask in their borrowed joy. Because from this moment on, I’m not playing the quiet, obedient pawn. I’m the storm they tried to silence. The reckoning wrapped in silk and scars. They don’t deserve peace. Not after what they did to me. I’ll make them feel it. The same agony, the same betrayal. No, worse. Double. And the Kensingtons? Oh, they won’t be spared either. Their blood's just as soaked in my suffering. I lived by their rules in my last life. In this one? They live by mine. And mercy? Yeah, I left that behind in the last timeline.

My wife, Sarah, died unexpectedly. My in-laws made an absurd request. "Why not have Stella play both roles? After all, Luke can't be without a mother." My brother-in-law, Greg, yelled at me, calling me shameless, and stormed out in anger. I looked at my sister-in-law, Stella, who looked exactly like my late wife. I could hardly conceal my grief. I was about to urge them to abandon their ridiculous idea, when I accidentally overheard a conversation between her and her parents. "It was Stella who died, so why did you lie and claim it was you?" Sarah sighed. "I love Greg. I staged my death so I could be with him legitimately. As for asking me to play both roles, don't even bring it up again. As for Michael, I have already given him a child and a respectable marriage. I owe him nothing." Turning around, I saw Luke with reddened eyes, asking me softly, "Daddy, does that mean that Mommy no longer wants us?" I bent down and pulled him into my arms, forcing myself to soothe him. "Your Aunt Stella wants to protect the person that she loves. We shouldn't bother her. It's time for us to prepare a new life."

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.