Photo Kawaki

Après avoir été traitée comme une banque de sang par le premier amour de mon mari, je suis morte de maladie dans le logement loué que mon mari milliardaire m'a concédé par charité. Aujourd'hui, cela a fait trois jours depuis ma mort, et mon fils de six ans a enfin compris que quelque chose n'allait pas. Il a joué avec ses jouets et s'est coupé le doigt, et je ne l'ai pas consolé. Il a ouvert un paquet de biscuits et a porté la nourriture à ma bouche, et je ne l'ai pas arrêté. Il s'est blotti contre moi, a agrippé mes vêtements et a murmuré « maman », et je n'ai pas répondu. Désemparé, il a trouvé mon téléphone et a appelé son père, mon mari milliardaire. « Papa, pourquoi maman dort encore ? » L'homme a aussitôt envoyé une photo de lui en train de dîner pour la veille de Noël avec son premier amour, puis a dit d'une voix froide : « Elle dort, elle n'est pas morte. Aujourd'hui, c'est la veille de Noël, je suis très occupé. » « Dis à ta mère capricieuse que le jour où elle acceptera de reconnaître son erreur, elle pourra revenir me voir. » L'appel s'est terminé. Mon fils est resté figé longtemps. Il a ramassé dans la poubelle le dernier biscuit de la maison, l'a cassé en deux et a porté un morceau à ma bouche. « Maman, mangeons aussi. »

A marriage bound by a contract, and she obliged to accept it. He was her boss, and she was his secretary. She gave him everything he wanted, but her love was neglected, but when she decided to leave, he offered her a contract marriage to make her stay. But, someone occupied his heart, and he couldn’t offer anything to her except his talent on the bed. After their marriage, she endured the pain, but scheme after scheme destroyed her tolerance. Finally, she was ready to leave him, but suddenly he refused to let her go. Charles seemed to feel her sorrow, hugged her suddenly, and whispered, “Sarah, you can trust me. I won’t ever be with her. You are different from all those other women. I really want to be with you. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have cut off relationships with all other women. Don’t you believe me now?” Sarah sobbed gently, “If you have accepted that it’s over with her, why do you still keep her photo in your wallet? Why do you still miss her? Don’t you see how it’s hurting me?” Charles stared at her, “She’s just another woman from my past!” The atmosphere between them became suffocating, and Charles said in a low voice, “Sarah, have I told you that you could leave? Remember, I’m your boss. You are my secretary and my wife!” Angrily, Charles shouted again, “Sarah, I’m your man!” “Uh? My man?” Sarah laughed and stared at him. Tears began to slip down her cheeks, “Are you, my man? Mr. President, I am just a mere possession of yours and never become your wife! Set me free, I’m begging you!”

It had been five years since I started dating Ross Jenner. His family invited my mother and me to their family home in Fellaton to discuss our wedding plans and to spend Valentine's Day together. It was past 10:00 PM when my mother and I landed, but Ross wasn't there to pick us up because his college junior, Laurel Elledge, had just arrived in Fellaton. He told me to figure out a way to get a cab to the house myself. In a strange place, unfamiliar with the area, it wasn't long before we found ourselves in danger. Just over ten minutes outside the airport, we were robbed. My mother was injured while trying to protect me, and she collapsed, bleeding heavily. Desperate, I held onto her, frantically trying to call Ross. Each call was abruptly cut off, and when I finally reached him, he sounded irritated. "Jennifer, you're an adult, so stop acting like a child. You couldn't even hail a cab on the street? Laurel just got to Fellaton and isn't feeling well. I need to take care of her." Without waiting for a response, he hung up. I tried calling again, only to find that I had been blocked. In the end, my mother's injuries were too severe, and she bled out before the doctors could save her. As I stared at her lifeless body, tears flowed uncontrollably. When I finally checked my phone again, the first thing I saw was a picture Ross had posted on Twitter. In the photo, he was kissing Laurel and holding a bouquet of roses. [Spending Valentine's Day with the one I love most.] I quietly threw the gifts I had brought from home into the trash. Then, I left a comment, which said, [Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.]

While I'm waiting for my vasectomy to start, I see a popular question trending on a forum. "What's the best revenge for a man?" An anonymous answer is upvoted all the way to the top of the comment section. "By stealing everything he's proud of while playing the role of his best friend, of course! To be honest with you, this is how I treat my childhood friend, too. "Before he realizes it, his parents already view me as their biological son. The company has bestowed upon me a position that's superior to his. His wife even gave her virginity to me at the new home he had personally decorated and refurnished. His children are actually mine, and they are super clingy to me! "Because of something I said, his wife made him get a permanent vasectomy. He actually agreed to it. At this rate, that bastard will never be able to have his own children!" Some people are shocked, while others don't hesitate to berate the anonymous poster. But the majority of the commenters are more confused than anything. "What sort of deep-rooted grudge do you have against your childhood friend, though? Why is your revenge going this far?" That poster is surprisingly honest. "Actually, it's nothing much. This friend of mine is superior to me in any way since we were kids. But he's also a smug and arrogant one who doesn't really seem to care about anything at all. "I don't like that attitude of his, so I've come up with this scheme and stolen everything from him. Take now, for example. He's waiting for his vasectomy procedure at the hospital, while I'm hugging his wife right now. In fact, I plan on depleting this entire box of contraceptives!" The latest photo the online poster has uploaded shows a box containing 13 condoms. As for the background, it happens to be my home.

Three days ago, I almost died. A birthday cake was needed for my sister, Rosa Esposito's birthday, so my dad told me to pick it up. He claimed that this was my way of making it up to Rosa for accidentally spilling coffee onto her new dress. When I was cornered in an alley by the thugs, I was in the middle of sending Rosa an apology text. They covered my mouth and dragged me into a van. That was when I heard them say, "Yup, that's her alright. That's the bitch named Rosa Esposito." I shook my head, trying to explain that I wasn't Rosa at all. But my name didn't matter at all when blows started raining down on me. That was how I spent the next three days in living hell. By the time I wake up in the hospital, my phone harbors a new family photo sent by Rosa. It features my dad, my older brother, Rafael Esposito, as well as my husband, Enzo Vitale. All three of them can be seen surrounding Rosa. When I was in the middle of getting pinned on the ground while feeling blades slashing my skin, these people were celebrating Rosa's birthday happily with her. Later on, Rosa smiles at my face. "Do you have any idea how much I hate that face of yours? I also hate how much better you are than me as well as the fact that everyone likes you more than me! "That's why I've robbed all of their love from you… be it Dad, Rafael, or your husband! You, on the other hand, deserve to be alone till the day you die!" At that moment, I've made three choices. First, I forge a miscarriage report. Next, I place a signed divorce agreement into a giftbox. Finally, I dial the number of my mentor, Sofia Bianchi. There, I agree to participate in a classified project research that will last for ten years without getting in contact with anyone. Since then, I, Valentina Esposito, have never existed in this world.

Lors du tremblement de terre, mon mari, Milo Alarie, capitaine de l'équipe de secours, m'a laissée derrière pour sauver son premier amour, Christine Bassot. Je ne l'ai pas empêché et l'ai laissé partir, car, dans une vie antérieure, face à la même situation, il avait choisi de sauver d'abord moi, enceinte de huit mois. Et Christine, en raison de l'intervention tardive, avait été ensevelie sous les décombres à la suite des répliques, mourant asphyxiée. Plus tard, le jour de mon accouchement, Milo m'avait emmenée devant sa tombe. Il m'avait regardée tomber à terre à cause de la douleur intense, ignorant mes supplications incessantes. « Jennifer, ça fait mal, n'est-ce pas ? Mais, tu sais, ce jour-là, Christine souffrait mille fois plus que toi sous les décombres ! » Je le regardais, incrédule, et il m'avait dit, impitoyable : « Ce jour-là, tu étais dans une zone de sécurité ! Si tu n'avais pas utilisé ta grossesse comme excuse, Christine aurait-elle manqué l'opportunité de secours optimale ? Elle a souffert à cause de toi, et maintenant, je veux que tu ressentes sa douleur ! » Il m'avait forcée à me prosterner devant la photo de Christine, mes douleurs s'intensifiant alors que je saignais abondamment. Finalement, j'étais morte à cause de complications pendant l'accouchement et une hémorragie. Lorsque j'ai rouvert les yeux, j'ai découvert que j'étais retournée à ce jour fatidique ! Cette fois, ni mon enfant, ni moi, ne compterions sur lui !

I went skiing alone on Valentine’s Day to clear my head. I never expected that later that night, my younger brother, Mason Cases, would show up after running away from home following a fight with our family. The front desk stopped him and asked for additional registration. I explained, "He’s my brother. He ran out after an argument and didn’t bring his ID. He’s just staying one night. I’ll take him home tomorrow." After hearing that, the receptionist, Riley Rowe, gave us a suggestive once-over, winking at my brother with a look that said, "I get it." "Alright," she said with a flirty smile. "It’s Valentine’s Day. I understand. No need to be shy." Seeing how exhausted Mason looked, I forced myself to swallow the disgust and brought him upstairs. That night, I came across a local post online. "Girls these days have no shame. Bringing some random guy back to a hotel on Valentine’s Day. She got caught and still had the nerve to lie, saying he’s her brother. Like I can’t tell?" Some users questioned whether she might have mistaken them. "I’ve worked in this industry for over ten years. There’s no way I got it wrong! She didn’t dare register him. Obviously, she’s afraid her husband will find out she’s cheating! I’m going to go listen outside their door later and livestream how loud she gets!" I froze. It couldn’t be that much of a coincidence, right? Until I opened the photo she had secretly taken. My blood turned to ice. That was me. Wait. The "random guy" she was talking about… Did she mean the one lying on the floor? But he really was my biological younger brother.

I stare at the email on my screen, unable to move my fingers. Tomorrow is our company's crucial product launch, and I just learn that the patent for the algorithm I spent three years developing is now filed under Matthew Ashford's new assistant, Sophie Bennett. I storm into Matthew's office to confront him. Sophie sits on his desk with her legs crossed, looking completely innocent. She claims that she filled out the form by mistake. "It's just a clerical error. The patent still belongs to the company. What's the big deal?" Matthew stands up from his chair, positioning himself in front of Sophie. I can't believe what I am hearing. "Matthew, this is my research!" "Emma, you're thirty-five. Why are you picking a fight with a twenty-three-year-old intern?" He frowns. Then, he turns to Sophie. "Starting tomorrow, you're the new CTO. Emma needs… some time off." I'm utterly stunned. A decade of marriage and five years dedicated to building a company together have been shattered by a few casual words from him. Thirty minutes later, Sophie posts a photo on social media of herself sitting on Matthew's lap. They are both clinking champagne glasses. "So lucky to have the best boss ever. I'll make sure to be his loyal kitten." Below that, Matthew leaves a comment—three red heart emojis. I shut my laptop and pick up my phone. "Hello. Is this Mr. David Langley from Novara Group of Sundale Valley? This is Emma Whitmore. I've changed my mind. I'm ready to join you." I pause. "And by the way, about that unreleased algorithm upgrade, I have the complete technical blueprint. Make me an offer." Later, I fly to Tallisport with an eight-figure check in hand, while Matthew goes frantic trying to find me.

Cancer took away her first love and Regina view on life changed. She wants to fulfil her dead boyfriend wishes as that was his last wish. On her flight to Greek, to attend the wedding of her cousin, she met Alex Pierce a billionaire who was named as a most promising young entrepreneur. In additional to that he was popular, having his article written on magazine with a printed photo of his. An fate decides, Regina met Alex Pierce through an unfortunate event that lead to hate relationship between them. Appointed as the bridesmaid and groom's best men, lead them to a different path. Where does this adventure to fulfil the dead boyfriend lead them? excerpt "How dare you," I raised my hand, but he got hold of it and shoved it down. Frustrated, I punch his chest as hard I can. After few punches, he grabbed both my hand and push me away. Thinking that finally he freed me, I turned my heel away from him. "I'm saying this again, you're delusional if you think you are living your live. It is not. You're living in his dream. His wishes," he seethed. "I love your free spirit, but you are so caught in your past that you don't see your future," he continued as his grip on my hand on body loosened. "I don't know how many wishes left, but I'm ready to fulfill it with you," he roared behind me as I walked away from him. Stunned, I stopped walking. Turning my head, I can see his shadow from the corner of my eyes, "Why? I'm delusional right then why are you joining this delusional woman?" I asked sarcastically. "Because, that's the only way to be with you and maybe I can break your illusion,"

I'm eight months pregnant when I suddenly faint on the train. My husband panics and cries for help as he kneels beside me. An interning doctor hurries to me. She doesn't bother checking my condition before saying, "The patient needs to undergo a C-section! We have to get the baby out now, or it might die of suffocation!" Then, she slices me open with a fruit knife—she doesn't take any precautionary measures before doing so. She takes my child out. I'm in so much pain that I don't even have the strength to scream. My blood flows everywhere. Yet, a photo of her holding my baby while standing in a pool of blood goes viral. People call her the prettiest doctor alive. My husband and his family are eternally grateful to her. They don't go after her for causing my death; they even make her my child's godmother! Meanwhile, I'm given a simple cremation. No one cares about me. After my death, all my assets go to my husband and his family. Only then do I hear my husband and the doctor talking to each other, sounding smug. "This plan killed two birds with one stone. We got rid of that woman and made ourselves out to be heroes!" That's when I learn the interning doctor is my husband's junior from high school. They got together when he accompanied me to my prenatal checkups! She failed her internship, so my husband came up with this idea—he wanted to use my death to boost her reputation and help her! Even my child eventually died under their "care". When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day we get on the train.