Ode To My Family Artinya

Damien had been stuck in a night from five years ago when he had a night with a random lady. For some reasons, he couldn't get her off his mind and vowed to find her. But that would be hard. With only her face in his memory and no name, how would he find her? As coincidences, fate, destiny, and a certain connection pull them, with each passing moment, closer to each other, they realize that they had been right under each other's noses all along. "Do, you really think.it was just a night stand?" The older woman asked and the two youngsters were thrown into instant confusion. Eleanor was sure that the only reason she went to the bar was because she was angry and needed a place to vent it out. And to her greatest knowledge, no one forced her to it. Damien too. He was at the Castle of Wine because he needed a quiet place... away from work. So... What was it...? ***** And, when they find out that it wasn't just a nightstand they shared, but infact, had a lot of things in common apart from the kids, only then would they realize... The journey just begun…

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.

When my husband threatened me with divorce for the hundredth time, demanding I sacrifice myself for my sister, I did not cry or make a scene. I simply signed my name on the divorce papers and willingly handed over the man I had loved for ten years to my sister. A few days later, my sister spoke recklessly at a banquet and offended a powerful family. Once again, I stepped forward to take responsibility, bearing all the consequences in her place. When they later proposed that I become a test subject for my sister's drug research, I gladly accepted. Mom and Dad said I had finally grown into someone mature and responsible. Even my cold husband stood by my hospital bed and, for the first time in so long, gently stroked my cheek. He said tenderly, "Don't be afraid. The experiment won't be life-threatening. When you get out, I'll cook you a big meal." However, he did not know that regardless of whether the experiment was dangerous or not, he did not have to wait for me because I was already dying from a terminal illness.

When I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to personally pick me up. Even my nephew, who had just finished his college entrance exams, arrived with a box of carrot cake he had waited in line all day to buy. His warm smile was the picture of innocence. “Auntie, congratulations on your discharge. With me here, you’ll never feel lonely again.” To outsiders, we were the perfect family—envied by all and even awarded the title of a local model family. But behind the facade of family bliss lay a very different story. On the very day my brother transferred the last of the family properties to me, I went live on social media. In front of an audience that idolized my so-called perfect family, I boasted about my "accomplishments." I conned my nephew into paying for a spot at an elite school, duped my sister-in-law into stepping into a scandalous club, and tricked my brother into losing everything he had worked for. “My brother has treated me with nothing but kindness. And I can only repay his kindness with betrayal.”

She was the pride and joy of the pack. a role model to the she-wolves her age, but that all changed when her father, alpha of Rosewood pack was killed in a rogue attack. her uncle, who was the beta of the pack took over the alpha position then kicked her and her mother out of the pack. forcing her into a life of a rogue. Anita, the alpha's daughter who is only 18 years of age, learns to live life outside of a pack, as a rogue and take care of herself and her mother. Who was consumed by the grief of losing her mate. To a point that she lost her mind and was now a useless she-wolf in the eyes of the new alpha, her uncle.

~There are certain expectations when a principessa is born to the Italian Famiglia~ Valentina Gia Salvatore, Wife to Julio Salvatore, matron of the Salvatore Family. It's been two years since I was tied in the vows of holy matrimony with my husband, I vowed to be loyal to him, as my husband, and my capo, I have. What I didn't promise was to love him and now I do. With blood, sweat, and tears. I am a mother, a sister, and the wife of the Capo Dei Capi of the Italian family. I have everything I could ever want; I thought things would settle down and I would finally stop learning, but I was wrong. Note: This is part of a series and is to be read in order. if you are here after reading MAFIA RULES, welcome and enjoy the ride!

Annabelle Spencer, she was the result of her parent’s obsession for perfection while her twin sister was an unwanted imperfection locked away from the world. Life changed after their parents passed away. Studying law at college, Anna meets Dante Bernade the son of a mafia whom she started a relationship with. The result of their love ends up in blood, broken bonds and the passion for revenge.

The night my in-laws were rushed to the hospital after a car accident, I hurried over to handle the situation. At the payment counter, I swiped my card—only to find that the joint account I shared with my husband had a mere two dollars left. I called my husband, Zarrick Thompson, over and over again. But he never picked up. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth—he had taken our money to celebrate his first love's birthday. Desperate, I borrowed seventy thousand from a friend to save my in-laws. But after they recovered, they flat-out denied everything. My husband, meanwhile, made no attempt to hide his relationship with her. He wanted me gone. To force me into a divorce, he went as far as setting me up—staging an affair, taking photos of me being humiliated. Then he used them to threaten me. Either I walked away with nothing, shouldering all our debts, or he would ruin me completely. I worked endlessly, day and night, to pay it all off. Until, one winter, I collapsed in a frozen alley and never got up again. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the accident.

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.

By the second year of my marriage to Quentin Lambert, we had a son. Fast forward five years, and I was basically a human cookbook, agonizing over every pinch of salt like it was rocket science. One night, Quentin tossed out, "Too much salt." And our son? He didn't even blink—he dumped the whole pot down the drain right in front of me. That's when it hit me—pure exhaustion, like a tidal wave. I told Quentin I wanted a divorce. He didn't even bother looking up. "Is that really necessary?" I nodded, my voice flat. "It is."