Pov Hospital Bed

"Suck my nipples now! Disobey me and face the consequences!" Mr. Evidence, known as the condom CEO ordered as Rose ran out of words. She knew she was indeed helpless. "Even on his sick bed, he still wants to satisfy his sexual urge? Gosh!" Said David as he shook his head in disbelief. The name of the man on the sick bed was Mr. Evidence. A young billionaire of 25 years of age whose identity was popularly known to be called the condom CEO. He own a huge condom company which favoured only women in the terms of job opportunities. He had the opportunity to live the kind of lifestyle he ever wanted but something happened!!!

In order to take care of my father, who got hurt from a fall, I gave up on my chance to get promoted and even took a week's leave. On the day he gets discharged from the hospital, my dad hands me a mysterious envelope with a wide smile on his face. "Thank you for your trouble over the past few days, Luther. This is a little token of appreciation from me. You can buy yourself a nice pack of smokes." I rub my hands together, feeling warmth surging into my heart. But when I open the envelope, all I see is seven dollars. Still, I comfort myself in thinking that the sum isn't important at all. It's the thought that counts, after all. But the next day, I come across a social media post of my younger brother, Felix Grayson, who never showed his face around the hospital during Dad's hospitalization. It features a photo collage of a luxurious villa, with a photo of the purchasing contract smack dab in the middle of collage. The caption writes, "I bought the top-tier riverside villa for seven million dollars! Thank you so much for your support, Dad!"

The day my wife gave birth to my foster brother's child, my entire family waited tensely outside the delivery room. They were not concerned about whether Sheila Rogers would make it through labor safely. They were worried I might turn up and make a scene. My mother kept glancing at the elevator. "He won't try to come up the stairs, will he?" My father was on the phone with hospital security again and again. "Yes, about six foot three. Have you seen him?" My brother stayed coiled and ready, fists clenched. "If my brother causes trouble, I'll lay down my life to protect Sheila and my son." However, from the start of labor to the moment Sheila delivered safely and both mother and child were declared healthy, I never showed up. Reclining on the hospital bed, Sheila took out her phone and asked my mother to call me. "Tell Hank not to cause any trouble," she said calmly. "If he's willing to be the child's godfather, we can still live our lives together." She felt absolutely no guilt toward me. From her perspective, she had merely granted my parents their long-standing wish for a grandchild. What fault could there possibly be in that? What no one knew was that I had never planned to go to the hospital. At that very moment, I was training beneath the scorching sun. All for a single reason: in one month, I would deploy with my unit to Safrana on a peacekeeping mission. Once I left, there would be little chance of ever coming back.

My daughter Mia's congenital heart condition had worsened. She desperately needed the one-of-a-kind miniature artificial heart I'd spent five years developing. The night before surgery, my wife Victoria stole it from the cold storage unit. I rushed to the hospital like a madman, only to find her at the bedside of her first love Dominic Forsythe's son, prepping him for surgery. "Mia can hold on for another six months. Dominic's son can't wait." "What kind of father are you, being this selfish?" Victoria stood there, righteous indignation written all over her face. I looked at my daughter lying in her hospital bed, barely clinging to life, and dialed the overseas number I'd refused a dozen times before. "Professor Ellsworth, this is Nathan Hartley." "I'll accept your offer. But I need you to arrange a medical transport—immediately—to bring my daughter to your facility. Her heart needs emergency intervention." I spent five years developing a life-saving heart for my daughter. Victoria stole it overnight and gave it to Dominic Forsythe’s son. “Mia can hold on for another six months. Dominic's son can't wait.” She had no idea I held all the core patents for that heart. That same night, I took my daughter aboard a medical jet and fled the country. The next time we met, you would be on your knees begging me.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

On our fifth anniversary, I came across the Instagram page of a stranger named Serena Reed. The girl lay sideways on a hospital bed, her bandage-wrapped hand intertwined with a man's larger hand. On the man's ring finger was a moonstone ring, with Vincent Carter's name and my own name clearly engraved on the band. Below the photo, the girl had written: "It's just a tiny scratch, but he was so worried he insisted I stay in the hospital. Being loved like this feels incredible!" An hour earlier, Vincent had apologized to me over the phone. "Nina, there's an urgent matter with the patrol team. Don't wait for me for dinner. When I come back, I'll bring you a gift." He was not coming home for our anniversary because he was with another woman. I silently melted down the moonstone ring and sent it to Vincent as a gift. Then I packed all my belongings, including the pup in my womb, and left the Shadow pack quietly, never to return.

One day, Ivy suddenly wake up from her bed and found out she went back 15 years before her death. In her past life, she was like vicious villian of those romantic novels who tried to humilate the female lead due to anger and jealousy! Which later on became miserable due to karma. Her brother died, their company fall into bankruptcy, her ambition to became a successful violonist shattered, and finally she went insane. However, it seems that her misery wasn't enough. Ivy got into an accident and became paralyzed, unable to talk and unable to move. She can only silently hope that her life would end sooner, so she could apologize to her brother in the after life. When she thought that this would be her end, dying all alone in her hospital bed, a man suddenly showed up in front of her and make her realized that there's rainbow after the rain. Unfortunately before she could confess, she died tragically without saying goodbye—such deep feelings were all given to her in vain. But now, she was back again and this time, she would be a better version of herself, she would achieve her dreams, and she would be the one to find him. Will Ivy's glory as a prodigy can be heard again? Can she fulfill her regrets? What would happen when she finally found out the earth shattering truth of her miserable life before? Will she choose to rewind or continue?

Adira had always been cast aside, different, overlooked. It never used to bother her but when she got her wolf things changed. She was labelled a freak, one of few wolves who could full body shift, one who (just maybe) held the secrets to a cure for lycanthropy itself, if only the experiments would work. She wouldn't make it easy for them though and, lucky for her, she knew someone with just enough darkness running through his blood to be able to help her. All she had to do was convince him. 18+ Content Third Person POV

I witness my wife, Janice Grant, sleeping in the same room as her childhood friend, Bruce York, in nothing but a skimpy nightgown. But Janice claims that she has gotten bound to a conquest system, so she has to conquer Bruce's heart just so she can complete the mission. I know that this is just a lie Janice has come up with, but I decide to endure her antics for the sake of our daughter, Millie Grant. But one night, Millie lapses into an asthma attack. My father-in-law, Phil Grant, and I rush her to the hospital immediately. Unexpectedly, as soon as we arrive at the hospital, we stumble upon a group of people who are there to cause trouble. Phil ends up getting stabbed in the chest just so he can protect Millie from harm. I quickly call Janice on the spot. But after hearing my explanation, she thinks I'm lying to her. "Evan, I told you I'm in the middle of a mission! If I don't complete it, I'll get punished by the system! Can you stop being so unreasonable?" Despair and rage overwhelm my senses at that moment. Since Janice is adamant on casting her own father and daughter aside for her beloved Bruce, she can forget about inheriting the hundred-million-dollar assets!

Three years ago, Avery Thorne married Julian Sterling for love. Today, she found out she was actually a human blood bank. While Avery sat in a hospital bed, Julian was busy transferring her patents, her fortune, and her very name to his mistress, Sarah. By the time the divorce papers were signed, the legal system no longer recognized Avery’s face. To the world, she is a delusional stalker named Sarah Vance. To Julian, she is a loose end that needs to be buried. Arrested and erased from her own life, Avery is left with nothing but fifty dollars and the knowledge of every security flaw in the empire she built. But Julian made one fatal mistake: he left her alive. From the shadows of the city she once owned, Avery begins a cold and calculated war. She isn't just coming back for her money or her company—she is coming back for her soul. And this time, she won't be the one bleeding.