Peeta Mellark Prosthetic Leg

She had her whole junior year mapped out. Volleyball. Late nights with her friends. Maybe telling her brother's best friend the thing she's been not-saying for two years. Then her left leg started hurting and a Tuesday trip to the ER rewrote everything. Sloane Deshazo, sixteen, has spent her whole life being easy to love. No drama, no needs, no complications. Ewing Sarcoma, stage 2, doesn't care about any of that. And neither, it turns out, does Chandler Pavelka, who keeps showing up without being asked, in yesterday's jeans and an inside-out hoodie, like staying is the most obvious thing in the world. Sloane knows how to fight. She's learning, slower, how to let someone stay. But remission isn't guaranteed, and some days the scariest thing isn't the diagnosis. It's wanting something this much.

Just two days before our engagement, my fiance, Theodore Scott, kneels to adjust the hem of my dress, his fingers suddenly brushing lightly against my ankle. "Isabella, I've never seen you wear heels. You have such beautiful feet." I adjust the waistline of my gown in the mirror and answer casually, "I'm not used to them. My legs hurt when I walk in heels." "Just try them. High heels would look perfect with your mermaid dress." His palm glides up along my leg, stopping at the back of my knee. He murmurs, "Red-bottom stilettos—each step would sway so gracefully, and the way they'd peek out when you walk… You'd look breathtaking in them." I look up and catch his focused, burning gaze in the mirror. "Since when do you know about these things?"

Ever since I was a child, my heart and mind have been filled with feelings for him - Magnus Zumatra, son of my father's billionaire friend. On his birthday, we were happily playing when he suddenly fell down the stairs and broke his left leg, leaving him unable to walk. The one he thought saved him and called for help to get him rescued was my sister Delara Funtasierra - my half-sister who has held a grudge against me for a long time. She became the one who seemed kind and Magnus' "savior" in everyone's eyes, while me? They pointed to me as the one who pushed the man. But no one knows that it was actually me - Terafina Funtasierra - who truly saved his life. Throughout his life, he loved Delara - that's why I left and kept my distance from them. But being hurt and slandered in front of everyone is something I cannot bear.

Synopsis “I loved you with everything I had. I broke down my walls, accepted you completely into my life and heart thinking you were real!” “You showed me utmost care and I forgot myself completely, I forgot how to exist without you, thinking you were f*cking real! But you are so quick to throw me out as soon as your ex arrives? Ethan!” I screamed, my chest constricted with pain, holding the papers in my hand. “100 million dollars Selene, sign the papers.” He muttered, his voice light as if I meant nothing to him after all these years. My eyes welled up with tears as I looked at the papers again. The word divorce written boldly on it, crushing my heart into several pieces. “Ethan?” I muttered once again, my tone vulnerable. “150 million..” He added. My leg wobbled.

My aunt has one leg amputated after getting into an accident. It's at this time that her beloved daughter chooses to leave the country. From that day onward, I care for my aunt like she's my own mother. We spend 15 years together. She's grateful for my care and promises she'll leave all her money to me after her death. However, my cousin returns to the country when my aunt is on the brink of death. My aunt goes back on her word and gives my cousin everything. She only gives me 50 thousand dollars as compensation for my "caretaking services". I've spent 15 years on her only to get 50 thousand dollars—it's such an insult. I'm so stunned by this that I trip and fall into a river. I drown. When I open my eyes, I've been taken back 15 years in time…

I was reborn. Reborn on the day my stepsister shattered my leg on the ice, the day my boyfriend carried her out of the blazing hockey rink while leaving me to burn alive in the flames. In front of everyone, I expose my stepsister's arson and tell my boyfriend we're done. But that's not enough. I want back everything I lost. I will have my revenge on both of them. I seek out Preston,the billionaire who was once the darling of the ice hockey world, now confined to a wheelchair. I beg him to help me take my revenge, and he makes only one demand: marry him. But as my vendetta unfolds, I discover Preston isn't as simple as he claims to be. He can stand,yet he pretends to be crippled. What secret is he hiding? Why did he approach me? And can I escape his grasp... or do I even want to?

My husband, who's a negotiation expert, allows his intern to recklessly anger some criminals. It causes me, the hostage, to suffer severe injuries in the explosion, and my right leg breaks because of it. Yet, my husband once again issues a letter of forgiveness for her. "My wife, as a reporter, ignored warnings and forced contact with the criminals to get the scoop. The main responsibility lies with her. Kimberly, being a newcomer, should not bear major fault." I don't cry or make a scene. I simply pull out a divorce agreement. However, he sneers at me. "I know you're just jealous and want me to comfort you, but don't cross the line." For the past three years, I've brought up the topic of divorce 47 times, and each time, he treats it like I'm just throwing a tantrum. But it's different this time. His name has already been signed on this divorce agreement. As long as I add my signature to it, it will take effect immediately.

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”

Everyone hates Liana Waters. Since she was born, her life had been nothing but a series of unfortunate events. Her parents abused her, her pack hated her and her mate rejected her for her sister. To make matters worse she was now a murderer. She thought running away would be easy but it wasn't, she was brought back to the prison and almost beaten to death. Tired, devoid of hope, she wished the Luna goddess could take it all. That was until she found an opening. While her sister was plotting to end her life, Liana went on a suicide mission. She put her best leg forward and offered herself as a potential bride to the cursed Lycan King, Alaric during his mating ball. A king who has no joy. But when her ex mate came running back, Alaric broke his fingers and threatened, “She is my Luna, my wife, near her again and you would be losing way more than a few fingers.”

It happened overnight. A job label suddenly appeared on everyone's forehead. My wife was [Cleaner], while her first love, the man she had always pined for, was [Unemployed]. She hugged my leg and begged me pitifully, "Honey, your label is [Emperor]! That's a useless label in this modern era. Please give it to him so that he can revive his career by using the fate of the chosen one." Before I could answer her, her first love and her knocked me unconscious and pointed an ancient bronze mirror at my forehead while chanting a spell. The golden label of [Emperor] left my forehead. It was an excruciating pain that felt like my soul was being torn apart, and I almost passed out. The label ended up being branded on the forehead of her first love. They celebrated wildly when it appeared on his head. As I opened my eyes slowly, I was filled with pity for them. They had no idea that the full label was [The Last Emperor].