Novelas y relatos de Orson Bean Net Worth

“Be my wife.” Lucia looked at him, questioning his sanity. “You're out of your mind.I don't even know you ”. Lucas Mariano's voice was icy, his gaze unreadable. “You need help.Your sister requires care.I can help you both.You have quite the image so I'm sure you'll need it. It's transactional-nothing more.”He finished. Once the rising star in the ballet world, Lucia Moretti's life is shaken after a brutal divorce and a terrible fire that leaves her and her sister homeless. Now, with her dreams buried,her heart is guarded and her main focus is keeping both herself and her sister alive. Enter Lucas-Merciless, cold and sinfully compelling.He offers a contract marriage which comes with everything Lucia needs but at a cost she doesn't understand…yet. What started as a formality quickly grows into something far more twisted when her ex-husband,Matt-lucas’s best friend-returns, determined to have her again. “You got married to Lucas?” Matt snarled,fury dripping from his voice. “Is this your revenge?” He continued icily. No, Lucia said without emotion. “This is survival.” As sparks fly and secrets come to light, Lucia Finds herself torn between a past that nearly broke her and a man who might shatter her in a brand new way. In a world of socialites, betrayal and fake love, Lucia must ask herself: Is she the puppet or the one holding the strings?

Three days after giving birth, my husband leaves me alone at home to care for the baby, saying that he needs to leave on an urgent business trip. Three days later, I've just arrived at the hospital when I see a family photo his childhood sweetheart has shared on her social media. It's captioned, "This was taken during a trip. We're a happy family of three." I'm surprised to see my husband grinning in the photo and comment on it with a question mark. He immediately calls me to reprimand me. "Do you know how hard it is for her as a single mother? She doesn't have a man to care for her. All I did was take a photo with her. Do you have to be so petty?" That evening, his childhood sweetheart shares a photo of some monetary gifts. "He insisted on giving me this after taking the family photo." I know my husband gave that to her to pacify her. This time, however, I'm ready to leave him.

For our ninety-ninth engagement ceremony, Julian booked us a skydive. He said he wanted to tell me he loved me at thirty thousand feet. My chute didn't open. I got tangled in a big tree. I survived, yet suffered multiple fractures all over my body. In the ward, I accidentally saw a message on the screen of our jump instructor's phone. It was addressed to Julian, and it carried a video. The video showed someone tampering with my chute before we boarded. So the "accident" was Julian's idea? I dragged myself out of bed on crutches, every bone in my body screaming, ready to confront him. I made it as far as the hallway. He was already there, talking to someone, and the moment I saw the other man, the floor tilted under me. The man across from him was the same driver who'd hit me with his car the night before our last engagement. The hit-and-run that should have killed me. "Mr. Veil, if you ever need me again, please reach out." Julian's voice was flat, almost tired. "There won't be a next time. I've tried everything I can think of. The engagement can't be postponed anymore." "And the woman you actually love, sir?" "I'll keep loving her," Julian said. "But Ada is the one I marry. Her mother gave my father a kidney. That's the debt. I have to pay it." I stood there shaking, and the truth rearranged itself behind my eyes. The camping trip he had planned, where I got lost and nearly died of hypothermia in the woods. That had been him. The vitamin C he had handed me, the one that put me in the ICU. Him too. And this time — the skydive, thirty thousand feet, “I want the sky to witness our love”. All of it. Every single one of those accidents was him trying to delay the wedding. But Julian, I thought, I could save you the trouble. The next morning I accepted an offer that had been sitting in my inbox for weeks: an invitation from a world-class orchestra on the other side of the planet.

When a mafia princess wanted to live a normal life, a marriage proposal totally changed her. She embraces life being the wife of the CEO, Bryce Hamilton. Hopeful for a happy family of her own, Fabe Everette realizes that a contracted marriage is like pointing a gun in your own head. Only you are too afraid to pull the trigger. But things got out of control when love hit her like a bomb. Fabe endures all the hardship of being his wife, mistreated and belittled by her husband's family. In hope for Bryce to love her back, the way she learned to love him. But after two years of marriage, Bryce filed for divorce for not giving him a baby. His inheritance depends on it, and it's part of their deal. Fabe raveled in her own foolishness and left. "Loving you is my hell! And I don't want to burn again," Fabe looked straight into his eyes and walked away. She has fooled once and never again. Where the game of rejection and revenge wins, will love prevail in the world of guns?

Amelia eyes widened as his kiss caught her unaware, right there in front of the crowd. He held her fingers while at it, inserting the diamond engagement ring on her ring finger. "Put the ring on Amelia. For your husband is watching..." he whispered in her ear as his eyes met with Hector's blazing fury, "and I want him to see...," he inhaled her scent deeply, intoxicating the hell out of him, "how I finally announce to the public and make his maid mine." ~~ Subjected to maltreatment under the Ashfords roof, Amelia's request for a divorce was always rejected by her husband, Hector. One night, after Amelia had snuck out to her secret workplace at a night club, she caught the eye of Alex Worthington—the reclusive and powerful billionaire owner of Worthington's tower. Although, she doesn't know it yet, Amelia is the gentleman's obsession that not even Hector would be able to stop!

To repay me for saving her life, Tiana Sabell lets me marry into her family. In the eighth year after I marry into the Sabell family with a monetary wedding gift worth billions, her long-lost first love, Hayden Brown, returns with a child. Because of a nightmare he has, he claims my daughter, Sabrina Zeller, is cursed and will bring harm to his son. Tiana locks Sabrina in an abandoned chapel deep in the mountains, forcing her to fast for seven days and nights to purify herself. I kneel before Tiana and beg, "Sabrina has a heart condition. If she does not eat or drink for seven days, she will die!" Tiana focuses only on preparing nutritious meals for Hayden. "She will not die from going hungry for a few days. If she cannot endure even this, how is she fit to be my daughter?" I am locked in the basement for seven days. By the time I find Sabrina, she has already starved to death. I carry her body, which is covered in livor mortis, back home. Holding Hayden in her arms, Tiana kicks me away. "What have you been teaching our daughter? How dare she fake her death to fool me? If you cannot raise our child properly, then I will give her a new father!" I call my sister and say, "Pull the investment. Let Sabell Group go bankrupt!"

Seven years after I disappeared, my sister found my name on the organ donor registry. She stood in the transplant center, staring at the paperwork in the nurse's hands. Her brows knit as she looked at the photo attached to the file, along with the name I used to go by. "Where is he?" she asked. "He's in hospice on the twelfth floor," the nurse answered quietly. "Today is the last day he'll still be conscious. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning." Her expression turned cold as she headed upstairs. The moment she pushed open the door, she saw me sitting on the bed, writing my final letter. "Landon." I looked up at her and smiled faintly. "You must have the wrong person, Ms. Bennett. My name is Jay Mercer. Not Landon Bennett." She stepped toward the bed, her tone rigid. "Come home. Apologize to Mason, and I'll hire the best specialists in the country for you—" "That won't be necessary." I didn't even look up again as I signed the last line of the organ donation papers. "I didn't do anything wrong. I'm not apologizing to anyone."

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

When I was eight months pregnant, my husband's foster sister invited me to hike a snow-covered mountain. Midway up, an avalanche hit. We were both buried. My husband rushed to the scene, but before I could utter a word, his sister accused me: "She planned this! She tricked me into coming today!" I tried desperately to explain. He didn't listen. Instead, he lashed out at me. "Sandra doesn't know any better, but you should! So what if she's blunt? Is this your petty revenge? Your pathetic life couldn't even begin to repay hers if she'd been hurt!" Then he left. Took her hand. Walked away. I screamed after him, begging him to save our baby. He didn't even glance back. Worse, he unhooked my safety harness and shoved me out of the rescue group. "Since you're so clever, find your own way down." Not long after, another avalanche hit. This time, I couldn't get back up. Three hours later, Sandra was in a car accident. She needed a blood transfusion. That's when he finally thought of me. But by then, he didn't know—I was already gone. Me, and the child I'd never hold, were still buried under the snow.

Cole Jackman married me to repay a life‑saving debt. Eight years after I entered the Jackman family with tens of billions, his long‑lost, unreachable first love, Ashley White, returned, with her child. Because Ashley had a nightmare, she claimed my son, Oliver Jackman, would bring misfortune to her child. Cole believed her without hesitation. He sent Oliver to an abandoned monastery deep in the mountains, forcing him to fast for seven days to “purify” whatever darkness Ashley imagined. I knelt before him, pleading, “Oliver has a heart condition. He won’t survive seven days without food.” Cole, busy preparing nutritious meals for Ashley, didn’t even look at me. “He won’t die from a few days of hunger. If he can’t endure this, he doesn’t deserve to be my son.” He locked me in the basement for the entire seven days. By the time I reached Oliver, he was already gone. I carried him home in my arms, his small body cold and still. Cole kicked me aside as he pulled Ashley into his embrace. “You’ve ruined our son! He’d even pretend to be dead just to deceive me. If you can’t discipline him, I’ll find him a new mother.” I wiped the tears from my face and dialed my older brother, Emilio Darcy. “Withdraw your investment,” I said, my voice steady for the first time in years. “Bankrupt the Jackman family.”