Pdf Portable Document Format Novelas e Histórias

I was pregnant. On my way to deliver documents to Tristan Goldberg, a flash flood struck. Desperate, I dialed his number, praying he’d answer. After a few rings, the call connected. But instead of Tristan, a woman’s voice answered. "Tristan, whose number is this? Do you want to answer it?" There was a brief pause, and then Tristan’s voice, cold and indifferent, cut through. "It’s just my maid. Ignore it. Hang up." And just like that, the call disconnected. Staring at the torrent rising around me, my pulse quickened. I texted him, begging for him to send a rescue team. Minutes passed as the waters climbed to my waist, churning and relentless. Then, a message from Tristan finally appeared. Tristan: [What kind of ridiculous story are you making up now?] Tristan: [Emily, do you think you're eighteen, playing these childish games? I want that document in my hands within thirty minutes, or we're getting divorced.] A surge of terror shot through me as I looked up, catching sight of a heavy branch snapping loose and crashing down. In an instant, everything went dark.

I was tasked with escorting classified information back to the wolf pack with my mate. As we were about to board the plane, he claimed to have left an important document at the hotel and told me to fly back first. I agreed, but after he left, I checked his location through the location sharing on my phone. He did not go back to the hotel like he said he would; instead, he changed his route and headed into human territory. I followed in a taxi and saw a young human woman holding a child at the entrance of a mansion. "Winston, you're finally back. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you." He took the child and kissed the woman on the lips. "I knew you missed me, so I pushed back my work with the pack to spend time with you. Wherever you are is home." I did not confront them. Instead, I called the Alpha King. "Winston Holmes, the Alpha of the Hyan pack, is colluding with human spies and selling werewolf secrets. I request that the Alpha King dispatch guards to assist me in capturing him."

On the evening of her wedding anniversary, Diana walks into her own home carrying groceries and hope, only to realise she has already been replaced. Replaced by her daughter’s school teacher – Lauren Johnson. “You threw her a birthday party in my house?” Diana asked, her voice shaking. “On our wedding anniversary?” She’s rejected not only by her husband, but by her own daughter too. “Miss Lauren, can you please be my Mommy?” Selena cried. “I hate her!” She pointed at her mother, her little eight-years-old voice betraying her age. Every sacrifice finally reveals itself for what it was: slow erasure. When Diana places a file in Henry’s hand and says, “Sign this,” she is done begging. She walks away quietly. Only then does the house feel empty. “Where’s Mommy?” Selena asks as they returns not able to find Diana anywhere in the house. What happens when Henry discovers the document he signed was actually their divorce paper? Will he be able to cope with Diana gone? How about Selena – their daughter, what becomes of her?

After two years of marriage, Khloe Roswell went to reissue her marriage certificate—and discovered the document she'd cherished was a forgery. Determined to confront her husband, Trey Fox, she instead overheard the devastating truth: the man who had tenderly cared for her for six years had, in fact, been married for five—to their university’s advisor, who was six years older than him. She wasn't just his cover; he had branded her barren and forced her to raise his child with another woman. Disgusted, Khloe called the lawyer about her inheritance. Her declaration was simple and left no room for doubt. "I am unmarried. I have no children. The assets are mine, and mine alone." With that, she walked away without a backward glance. Trey, smug and convinced she had nowhere to go, waited for her to come crawling back. He never imagined the day he'd see Khloe again in a marriage alliance broadcast to the nation. Now, she stood in the spotlight, commanding unimaginable wealth, side-by-side with a man at the pinnacle of power—basking in the world's envy.

I had given up the Luna position six times for Silas Blackthorn. The first time, I shattered every moonstone lamp in the master bedroom and threw his clothes into the rain. The second time, I cried until my wolf went hoarse, asking him why I had to be the one who stepped aside. The third time, I begged him to leave at least one suitcase behind, because I was terrified he would never come back. By the fifth time, I had learned to fold his coats, pack his luggage, and stay silent so he would not get angry. Every time, he kissed my forehead and promised, “Seven days. Then everything goes back to normal.” And every time, I believed him. Until the sixth time. This time, when Silas handed me the document and asked me to step aside again, I signed without crying. He thought it was another temporary Luna authorization form. He did not know it was the mate bond release agreement. Seven days later, while he waited for me to return to the main house and reclaim my title, the bond between us broke. And by then, I had already left Blackthorn territory for good.

My wife, Maeve Sinclair, has a weird fetish. She loves roleplaying as other characters. In her scripts, I'm always the OG husband who gets abandoned by the heartless wife. Today, Maeve will be the domineering CEO who's fallen in love with her assistant. Tomorrow, she will be the professor who has the hots for her student. Every time, she will make me sign a divorce agreement. The next day, she will laugh while ripping it apart. "Darling, this is just a game." But when my dad gets into a car accident and requires 200 thousand dollars just to undergo a life-saving surgery, Maeve is playing the role of a broke woman. "I'm a penniless woman who's gone broke, Neal. I don't have any money for your dad's surgery at all." I can only watch as my dad breathes his last on the sickbed. On the day of his funeral, Maeve approaches me with a young and handsome university student clinging to her side. "Darling, I've fallen in love with my student. Let's get a divorce." Then, she pulls out a document from her briefcase and passes it to me. This time, I refuse to wait for her to rip it apart.

“What the fuck is this, Amanda?” Xander’s eyes scanned the document, his jaw tightening, a vein throbbing at his temple. Amanda didn’t flinch. Her smile was soft and cruel as she slid the pen across the table without breaking eye contact. “It’s a contract,” she said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. “Sign it... so I can use you until I get bored.” Four years ago, Amanda gave her heart to billionaire Xander Westwood, but she was betrayed in return. She was labeled desperate, dragged to a hospital, and nearly forced into an abortion. And thanks to her manipulative stepsister, she was disowned by her father. However, she disappeared without a trace, but not before giving birth to triplets, two of whom she took, leaving one behind with the man who shattered her. Now, Amanda’s back. Richer. Colder. And dangerously calculated. Her revenge is no longer just a fantasy, it's a plan. A plan for her sister who betrayed her, and the family who turned their backs. And the man who thought she’d stay broken. This time, she holds the pen. And they all play by her rules. But love, like revenge, has a cost, and when secrets begin to unravel, Amanda must choose between the vengeance she craved and the love she thought was dead.

The only audible sounds for the next few minutes were the platters of rain against the window and our heavy breathing. I saw him walk his naked ass to the bedside drawer, returning with a document in his hands. "What's this?", I questioned as I reluctantly took it from him. "A contract you need to sign to live." I grew silent as I read through the document. "If you sign that, you're going to be mine and mine alone. I'm going to have you whenever I want, and do with you whatever I please. In return, your father gets to live." *** Sofia's miserable life even darker when she is forced to be the payment for her father's debt to the most ruthless Mafia Lord in the city. Enzo had just one taste of her from a one night stand, and now he can't get her off his head. To keep her close he makes her sign a contract - BE MY SEX DOLL, AND IN RETURN, YOUR FATHER GETS TO LIVE. How long will the lustful contract hold? How will Sofia survive when she's suddenly exposed to the dark rollercoaster of Enzo's underworld? Will she keep being his private prostitute, or will there ever be an unlikely spark of love and desire?

The meeting was nearly over when the company's newest programmer projected a screenshot of a document bearing my name. "Mr. Stark, I'm reporting Lina for misappropriating company assets. She put her personal name on the company's core algorithm." Every head in the room turned toward me. I almost smiled. I had built that algorithm on my own years earlier and later lent it to the company. Misappropriation? The accusation was almost laughable. I expected it to collapse under its own weight. I did not expect my boyfriend, the CEO, to nod in agreement. "Lina, this was a collective effort in the end. Update the credit to the company's name after the meeting." I struggled to process what I was hearing. He had come to me in tears, begging to use that algorithm. He had built the entire company on it. I had trusted him completely, so I had never put a single word in writing. Now that trust had become the very thing he used against me. A chill settled in my chest. I picked up the USB drive and set it down hard on the table. "Fine. Change it yourselves." None of them knew I had filed for a patent the moment I finished the algorithm. Unauthorized use of someone else's patent was a serious offense. People went to prison for it.

I'd spent an entire year preparing for my son Tristan Pascall's spot at a top international school. By the final admissions review, I had every single document ready. All that was missing was the original copy of Richard Pascall and my marriage certificate. Once we handed that in, it would be official. But when we got to the admissions office, Richard turned on me, accusing me of arranging this without telling him. Before I could clap back, the admin frowned and said, "Ma'am, according to the system, Mr. Pascall's spouse isn't you." My whole body went cold. And then Iris Poole—who had been standing behind Richard this whole time—stepped up and slid her marriage certificate across the counter. The staff checked it, nodded, and said, "Mr. Pascall, Ms. Poole, your registration date is June, four years ago. Everything looks fine. You may proceed." June, four years ago. That was the exact month Richard held my hand in front of all our friends and family at our engagement party and promised I was his one true love. He had lied to me about that for the past seven years.