Quotes About Emotional Scars

They thought breaking her would be easy. But from the ashes of betrayal, she rose stronger than ever. Mary Martel was the perfect wife—obedient, loyal, invisible. Until her husband, Alfred Martel, discarded her like trash for his pregnant secretary, Selena. Broken and humiliated, Mary Martel vanished from the spotlight, presumed defeated. But behind the silence, she was rebuilding herself—sharpening her scars into weapons, her grief into armor. Now she’s back. Not as the meek wife they used to mock, but as a powerful, enigmatic woman with one purpose: To destroy the man who broke her, expose the woman who deceived her, and prove that a wife may bend—but never breaks. Love, vengeance, secrets, and twisted redemption collide in this fast-paced, emotional rollercoaster that will keep you breathless until the last page.

Love is unpredictable, so is Fate. Rishi couldn’t figure out his life between moving on and stuck with the past until Anbu came into his life proffering his hope for a soulful life that he craved for the last five years after his only-love-Anu left him broken beyond repair:according to him. Anbu, a woman who wants nothing but a simple and stable life with her Fiance-Rishi. During the courtship time, Rishi and Anbu decide to take a step forward to get to know each other well before their marriage-which is soon to happen. With every passing day Rishi had started to feel alive again, with Anbu. Nevertheless his past never stopped hunting him and as a result of that, life threw him at the doorstep of Anu in the middle of the night. Anu hated Rishi all her life for some solid reasons. And to keep him away from her life and her daughter Ria, Anu did something that made him loath his own existence. Three different persons, living in different phases of life but eventually they’re connected by the Twist of their Fate. How ? Twist of Fate is all about Hate-love-Fate, with a pinch of reality and the emotional roller coaster life of Rishi-Anbu-Anu.

She was just a girl trying to survive school. He was a man built from secrets, scars, and power. At eighteen, Aera Summer Santiago never expected to be married—especially not to Hans Calix Devraux, the billionaire with a reputation for control and cruelty. Driven by power and obsession, Calix would do anything to possess her—whether through force… or persuading. Forced into his world, trapped in his mansion. She’ll learn that love with Calix isn’t soft. It’s sharp. Brutal. Addictive. And once he’s claimed her— he’ll never let her go. .... DISCLAIMER This story is intended for audiences 18 years old and above. It is entirely fictional, created purely from imagination. Names, places, events, and characters are not based on real people or incidents. This genre contains dark romance, obsession, and possessiveness, with themes of violence and emotional tension. If you are uncomfortable with stories involving such content, this narrative may not be suitable for you. Read at your own risk.

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

My twin sister, Audrey Goodwin, was obsessed with romance novels about rich heirs. All she wanted was to marry into money and live like some perfect socialite. She set her sights on the silver-spoon scion in Jezelton, Michael Strickland, who'd been blind after a car accident. Audrey got close by becoming his private nurse. But she got tired of the work really quickly. So, she asked me to cover for her. When Michael finally got his eyesight back and held a huge celebration, Audrey decided to drug him so she could slide right into the role of Mrs. Strickland. I didn't stop her this time. I even went as far as booking her a luxury suite so she could carry out her plan. In my last life, I had begged Audrey not to go through with it. I told her romance novels weren't real life, and guys like Michael were way too powerful to mess with. She had actually listened and canceled the plan. But a little while later, the news broke: Michael secretly got married. It turned out that he'd been with someone else that very night. Just like that, Audrey's big fantasy was gone. She blamed me for ruining her "dream". My parents blamed me as well; they beat me and yelled at me, saying Audrey couldn't marry Michael now because of me. One night, Audrey snapped. She came into my room with a hammer and beat me to death. Now, I had been given another chance. I woke up right on the night of Michael's recovery party.

When I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to personally pick me up. Even my nephew, who had just finished his college entrance exams, arrived with a box of carrot cake he had waited in line all day to buy. His warm smile was the picture of innocence. “Auntie, congratulations on your discharge. With me here, you’ll never feel lonely again.” To outsiders, we were the perfect family—envied by all and even awarded the title of a local model family. But behind the facade of family bliss lay a very different story. On the very day my brother transferred the last of the family properties to me, I went live on social media. In front of an audience that idolized my so-called perfect family, I boasted about my "accomplishments." I conned my nephew into paying for a spot at an elite school, duped my sister-in-law into stepping into a scandalous club, and tricked my brother into losing everything he had worked for. “My brother has treated me with nothing but kindness. And I can only repay his kindness with betrayal.”

Introducing "The Contract to Find the Billionaire's Lover" Matt is thrown into a tumultuous journey of love and loss following his father's untimely demise. In a twisted turn of events, his stepmother Cathrine manipulates him into a marriage with Angela, solely for her own gains. But Matt, a billionaire with a will of steel, resolutely refuses. Angela, cunningly advised by Matt's stepmother, sets a trap for the billionaire by enticing the newly appointed maid, Kate, into a contract as a spy. Her mission? Uncover Matt's true love and to enable them destroy their relationship. Unbeknownst to Kate, this contract holds deadly consequences, but the truth gradually dawns on her. As Matt confides in the maid, revealing his heart's desire to reunite with his childhood sweetheart and continue their love story, Kate realizes that she is the very person he seeks—the one true love he longs to reconnect with. The burning question arises: Will Kate deny her true identity, pretending ignorance, and spare herself from a dangerous fate? Furthermore, what will the billionaire do if he too discovers that Kate is his childhood friend and lover? Will their shared history ignite a flame that cannot be extinguished? As the truth about the contract unfolds, what actions will the billionaire take? Will he be able to defy fate and protect his newfound love? Join us on an emotional rollercoaster as we delve into "The Contract to Find the Billionaire's Lover."

Everyone loved my older sister. When the novel I wrote shot to popularity, she got jealous and suddenly proclaimed that she wanted to be a popular author too. My older brother, who was the editor-in-chief, immediately announced that I plagiarized my sister's story at my book signing and she ended up becoming the genius author while I got cyberbullied so much that I was too scared to leave the house. After I got married to a young heir from high society and lived a happy life, my sister told me that she had a crush on him for years and wanted to be his bride at least once in her lifetime. He did not even think twice about divorcing me and holding the wedding of the century with my sister. My family was afraid that I would sabotage their relationship, so they made me leave the country. However, my sister did not think that I was miserable enough. She came for me outside the country and pushed me down the stairs. I was lying in a pool of blood when my mother rebuked me, "Did you say something that made your sister unhappy again?" That was how I died in despair. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother accused me of plagiarism.

After my rebirth, I avoided my family and my boyfriend like the plague. When they tried to throw me a birthday party, I faked an urgent business trip to dodge it. When my parents pleaded with me to move back, I secretly bought my own house that very night. When my boyfriend popped the question, I spun on my heel and married someone else. In my previous life, my sister and I were swept away in a raging flood. By sheer luck, a jagged tree branch snagged my clothes, saving me from the depths, but my sister drowned in the merciless current. My parents, consumed by grief and rage, gripped my throat and screamed, "If it weren't for you, Andrea would still be alive!" My boyfriend acted like it was no big deal, offering half-hearted comfort before we tied the knot. But on our wedding anniversary, during a family cruise, they cornered me on the deck and shoved me overboard. "Time to taste drowning yourself!" they hissed. It turned out they had never gotten over Andrea's death. My boyfriend had never forgotten about her. When my eyes fluttered open again, I found myself back on that fateful day. This time, I vowed to live for myself, reclaiming the joy they'd stolen from me.