Romans & histoires Neymar's Birthday

It's Grandpa's birthday banquet, and yet my fiancee is working late again, missing her one chance to meet the family. My brother and his wife, still bitter about me taking the project from them, don't waste the opening. "What good is all his money when his fiancee can't even show up on a day this important? She clearly doesn't take him seriously." "That's why Archer's the smart one. He landed himself Claire Donovan, of all people. Even her throwaway gifts start at seven figures." I'm about to fire back when the familiar name stops me cold. My eyes lock onto the bracelet of dark wooden beads the butler carries in. It's identical to the one my fiancee just spent a fortune on a few days ago.

It was the day of my return. The city was talking about the birthday party my husband was throwing for me. He was a lawyer. But the night before the big day, a message popped up on my husband's cell phone. 'It's been five years. I've been waiting for far too long.' My husband pushed me away, though his face was smeared with guilt. "I'm sorry, honey. The GM wants me on a last-minute work trip. I can't make it in time for your birthday." He left without even missing a beat. I opened up the GPS app and watched the red dot move away. That was him. I got an Uber and tailed him right away. His GM was me. I just got the job, and I approved his leave for my birthday. And then he told me, in my f

After I was reborn, the first thing I did was burn every photo of Vincent Corleone and me. Then I threw his engagement ring into the fireplace and deleted every voicemail where he swore I was the only woman he would ever love. Because in my last life, that love turned me into a joke. Vincent said he loved me, but after I gave up my place at a world-class institute for him, he took Lilian White to Europe instead. She was the orphan he felt guilty for. The fragile girl he said needed protection. I was Isabella Rossi, heiress to the Rossi crime family. So I was supposed to be strong. Strong enough to smile when he missed my birthday for her. Strong enough to stay quiet when she wore my mother’s

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three m

I am the daughter of the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my parents are very rich, but I have nothing. When black magic was eating away at me with a month to live, I asked to borrow ten dollars and they said I was "not worthy." I dragged my sickly body to buy the cheapest herbal medicine, but I saw them spending billions of dollars to celebrate my foster sister Vivian's 18th birthday. Tears streamed down my face, I just wanted to spend ten dollars on a piece of fabric and make my own ceremonial robe, even though I wouldn't live to be eighteen.

My daughter hid inside the cabinet, her trembling hands dialing her father—James, the Alpha of our pack. "Mommy's bleeding a lot. Please, come back and save her," she pleaded. "I'm busy. Don't bother me," James said coldly. "If she's going to die, make sure she does it far away." As he wished, I never bothered him again. Because I really did die, right in front of our wedding photo. When he found out, he went mad, completely mad.

On my little brother, Clover Shaw's birthday, I tear up my stomach cancer diagnosis report and use the money I've saved for treatment to buy him the gift he's been talking about for ages. But when I wake up in the early hours of the night while coughing blood, I hear the disdain in his voice. "That piece of crap he bought is just 5,000 dollars. It's not even worth as much as my cheapest game! Who would want that garbage? "He's such an idiot. It's been over 20 years, and he still hasn't figured out that we've been playing poor. He's out there working himself to the bone to scrape together my tuition fees! On top of that, he stinks so much every day! It's disgusting! Mom, who has always ca

My wife, Heather Conner, secretly steals the funds I've saved up for our daughter, Naomi Hartman's surgery. After that, she books a high-class hotel for Jared Winters, the low-income student she has been sponsoring, just so she can celebrate his birthday with him. When I find out about it, I demand that Heather return all the money to me. But she slaps me immediately and blames me and Naomi for causing her trouble on purpose. "This is the first birthday Jared and I are celebrating together! Since it's such a big day, it's only natural that I hold it in a grand and lavish manner! "Instead, you two insist on undergoing that stupid surgery just when I've booked the hotel instead of schedulin

On my daughter, Arlene Bale's tenth birthday, I miscarried in a horrific car accident. Before I can even tell my husband, Camden Bale, about my pregnancy, my unborn child has already left me. Devastated, I attempt to call Camden. But after spamming more than a dozen calls, none of them get answered. When I open a social media app, the first thing I see is Camden's first love, Ruth Carroll, celebrating her safe delivery online. The accompanying photo features Camden's tender-looking side profile as he cradles the newborn in his arms. Camden's mother, Patricia Stone, even leaves a long comment there to celebrate the birth of Ruth's baby. "Oh, Ruth! You really are a hero to the Bales! To

On the 26th of my birthday, my true love gave me divorce papers and a broken heart. One meant to wound. One meant to finish me. Life has a way of giving gifts that are both unexpected and profound. If the people you love the most can hurt you this deeply, then perhaps it is only fair to return the gesture, quietly and carefully. This is a thick and cruel world. But I am still here. And some gifts are returned with interest — Bianca Winter. *** “Please, Bianca,” Charles Warren begged, crying on his knees. “Give me a chance. Give us another chance.” “Dear ex,” Bianca Winter replied coldly, “I would have to be blind to walk your way again and even blindness wouldn’t excuse th