No Longer Nct

The doctors said it was over—stage four, nothing left to fight. I had three days, max. I signed the organ donor papers myself. If I was gonna die, at least someone else could get a second shot. Told my family I was sick. But my so-called sister—the doctor—shrugged it off like I was making it up. She convinced them I was losing it, not dying. My parents and fiancé fell for it. Handed me over like she was some hero. She wasn't. She pushed me closer to the end. And when I finally died, the same people who wouldn't listen cried like they hadn't let it happen.

My father bought twin brothers from the black market to serve as bodyguards for me and my sister. My sister chose the tall, strong older brother, leaving me with the frail, mute younger one. Feeling sorry for him, I kept him close, seeking doctors for his silence and maintaining distance to respect his apparent OCD. I thought trauma had shaped him that way. But when our father's enemies kidnapped us, he abandoned me without hesitation, choosing to die shielding my sister. In his final moments, he spoke for the first time. "You finally see me." To me, he said, "In the next life, please don't choose me." I realized then that he was neither mute nor afflicted with OCD. His silence and aversion were directed solely at me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we chose the bodyguards. This time, I'd grant his wish.

The night before my wedding, I was in a terrible car accident. I fell into a coma, and my body was broken and bruised. While I lay unconscious, my fiancé called off the engagement and married his childhood sweetheart instead. My mother went to demand justice on my behalf—but never made it back. She died in a sudden, brutal accident along the way. In that moment of chaos, it was my childhood friend who stepped in. He knelt on one knee outside the hospital with a wedding gift of a hundred thousand dollars and quietly handled my mother's funeral. I was wheeled into surgery. I lived, but was left with a permanent disability. And still, he promised to stay by my side, for life. I was deeply moved. We got married. But five years later, I overheard him talking to his secretary. "Mr. Davidson, you arranged for someone to hit your wife with a car, just so Lucy could marry the one she loved. Aren't you afraid she'll find out?" "For Lucy, there's nothing I wouldn't do. I've already given Ruby the rest of my life. Isn't that enough?" I covered my mouth, holding back a sob. Only then did I realize—the marriage I believed in had been a lie all along. So be it. I'll disappear and let him be with the woman he truly loves.

"This is the body donation agreement, Mr. Lewis. Please sign here." Joel Lewis looks at the paper before him. His hand trembles as he grips a pen. The other party can sense his hesitance. They say considerately, "Body donation is a big thing, and it's normal for people to change their minds at the last minute. You can go home and discuss this with your family—" "I've already signed it." Joel smiles bitterly. "Family" is a term that's beyond him. There's no longer any space in his wife's heart for him, after all.

What happens when fate and chance come knocking with a blank slate, a minute after you just felt a car climb over you? Jason ignored her. He humiliated her. He let their daughter almost drown while he played father to his mistress’ child. But when Molly died, fate gave her a second chance. This time, she would no longer be the obedient wife. This time, she’ll expose him, starting with the secret that has the potential to unravel every single crafted plan: She’s carrying his best friend’s child.

Durante cuatro años fui su secretaria y durante cuatro años calenté su cama. Lo sabía todo, desde los negocios de su familia hasta los secretos que me susurraba por las noches. Pero para él, yo no era más que un juguete al que podía recurrir cuando quisiera. En cuanto su primer amor, Sofía Costa, regresó al país, él me humilló sin pensarlo dos veces. La besó en una iglesia de Sicilia, me abandonó en una carretera, empapada por la lluvia con un corte de veinticinco centímetros en la pantorrilla, y luego me despidió con una frase fría y mordaz. Dijo que yo era alguien sin importancia, alguien a quien simplemente podía ignorar. Ella agitó el tulipán de peluche que él le había obsequiado delante de mí. —Yo soy la única a la que ama. Tú solo eras una sustituta. Mientras reconstruía mi vida en Northport y por fin encontraba algo de paz, este despiadado Don de la mafia se arrodilló frente a mi puerta, con los ojos rojos de emoción. —Elena, vuelve conmigo. Pateé su mano lejos con una sonrisa. —Tu supuesta devoción me repugna.

I had been married to Lucius Martin for three years, and in all that time, there was never a shortage of women around him. Each time he brought another woman home, he would give me a necklace worth a fortune. In just three short years, I had accumulated ninety-nine necklaces. When Lucius fastened the hundredth necklace around my neck, I no longer cried or made a scene. Because this time, the woman he cheated with was my own older sister, the one who had beaten and scolded me since we were children. The man I loved most joined hands with the person I hated most to torment me together. At that moment, my heart finally died. This time, I took the initiative and walked up to Lucius, placing a house purchase contract into his hands. "As long as you sign this," I said, "you can do whatever you want with her." A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but in the end, he signed without hesitation. For the first time ever, he even leaned down and gently kissed my cheek. "Good girl," he murmured. "You've finally learned to behave." I personally opened the car door for him and watched as he hurried off toward my sister. When the car disappeared completely from sight, I let out a long breath. Then I reached beneath the documents and pulled out the paper hidden there—a divorce agreement.

After my girlfriend returns from a month-long business trip with her first love, she notices that I've changed. She sides with him to take over my project, but I don't quit in anger. Instead, I throw myself into helping him, even drafting proposals for him. She destroys the design I worked so hard on to help him snag the year-end bonus, yet I don't try to defend myself. I take all the blame and let her punish me however she likes. Even when she goes as far as to promote him to general manager against the rules, I don't get upset. I hand over all my shares, letting her distribute them as she wishes. My girlfriend wonders why I've suddenly become so submissive, while her first love just grins smugly. "See? I told you—giving him the cold shoulder works. Once he's afraid of losing you, he'll fall in line," he says. It clicks for my girlfriend. She smiles, tells me I've been good, and offers me a promotion. Then, she unexpectedly asks me to propose. But she doesn't seem to realize that while we weren't speaking, she has already signed my resignation papers. And I've already broken up with her. From this moment on, I sever all ties with her, and we no longer have anything to do with each other.

" How about I burst your bubble?" With that I landed my hot fists on his handsome face, causing the Billionaire Godlike man to stagger on his feet. " Let's see who lick whose shoes then.." I smirked and pulled him by the collar of his shirt. "Kiss the floor I walk on, Wesley Cooper."

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.