Rainy Nights Quotes

I've sustained grievous wounds thanks to me stepping into a trap by accident. While I'm dying in the forest, my parents, older brother, as well as my fiance are busy preparing the afterparty for my older sister, Selene Sutton, who has put on an outstanding performance at the hunting rite. I use what's left of my energy to ask for help through the mind-link connecting me and the others. Yet, none of them bothers replying to me. Even Leon Lane, the next candidate set to inherit the Alpha position as well as the wolf who's betrothed to me, blocks out my pleas for help. A long, long time later, I finally hear Leon's message coming through the icy expanse of the mind palace. "Stop it with your tantrum, Ivy. Tonight is Selene's afterparty. We'll talk more once the party is over." As I stare at the moon in the sky, I lose the will to struggle to survive anymore. It turns out that my life isn't as important as one of Selene's afterparties. This is the 99th time everyone has abandoned me for Selene's sake. Well, this time, I don't want them in my life anymore.

My mom believed in one thing above all else: being number one. To achieve that, she created a strict daily schedule and even developed a monitoring app that required us to submit reports every day. Anyone who failed to rank first according to the app's evaluation would be tied to a chair and severely punished. No matter how difficult the task was, my younger brother, Jason Hunt, could always complete it and receive a perfect score. Even when he actually ranked last, the monitoring software would still display him in first place. As for me, a single misspelled word was enough to trigger a failing warning from the app, followed immediately by my mom's harsh punishment. At first, I tried to explain. Later, I stayed silent. In the end, I could only kneel and beg. My mom remained unmoved. "Trash doesn't deserve sympathy," she said coldly. "You'll thank me when you become successful in the future." On the first day of the New Year, my mom took Jason out to visit our relatives and exchange greetings. I, meanwhile, was burning with a high fever and could not even finish the day's assignments. Ignoring my illness, my mom dragged me into a bathtub filled with ice. "If you're trying to escape studying, you don't deserve to live," she said. "Pretending to be sick? If you've got the guts, then just die already." She forced my head underwater and raised a rod, smashing it against my skull again and again. I begged desperately for mercy, but it was futile. My mom left with Jason, and I curled up alone on the floor. She was right. Only those who work hard deserve to live.

Cecilia Laurent’s husband, Lyon Melville, was known across North Ameria’s underground circles as the biggest womanizer. As the current Don of the Melville family, the women who wanted to get close to him would line up from New Yorke to Rondon. He never turned anyone away from his bed. Cecilia had been married to Lyon for five years. The taunting messages and intimate photos from his mistresses were enough to fill the storage on three of her encrypted phones. Cecilia showed no mercy. After the photos of Lyon in the car with a model were made public, she had the sports car dismantled completely. When he went out to sea with an actress to watch fireworks, she had the yacht blown to nothing. She blacklisted every woman who tried to cling to him. She overturned tables at family banquets. She risked every bit of dignity she had as the Melville family’s Donna in the hope that he would come back to her. Lyon allowed it. He let the rumors spread without denying anything. For five years, Cecilia was the joke of the family and the entire underworld. When the New Year came around, Cecilia received her first “gift” of the year. It was an intimate photo of Lyon in bed with another woman. At nearly the same time, a headline broke across New Yorke’s social media and tabloids. [Don Melville Meets Superstar Gianna Moretti Late at Night.] Inside the banquet hall of the family estate, the band continued to play. The champagne tower reflected a cold light. Everyone was waiting for her to blow up. Her assistant expertly pulled up the PR department’s number and held the phone out to her. “Donna Melville, the PR team is waiting for your instructions. Do you want us to make this bigger, like last time?” Cecilia looked at the man in the photo. Ten minutes ago, he had held their daughter on the balcony and watched the fireworks together. She suddenly smiled. “Take it down,” she said. “I don’t want to see this on the front page in two hours.” Everyone in New Yorke knew that the Melville family’s Donna loved like a madwoman. She could lose her temper just as easily. But this time, she did not lose control. She wanted a divorce.

When my husband, Robert Bowen, takes his assistant, Bianca Strickland, to a prenatal checkup, I'm being kissed by his 18-year-old version in a corner. "You're already 30 years old, yet why do you smell so nice and taste so kissable? I love you so much, honey! "By the way, where did my 30-year-old self go? Why didn't he come pick you up after work?" I push the 18-year-old Robert away helplessly, only to meet the icy gaze of his 30-year-old self from afar. "You already have a young side piece, and yet you still can't bear to get a divorce from me? Don't make me look down on you, Kaitlyn Hudson." As I watch Robert leaving the hospital with his arm around Bianca, his 18-year-old self begins throwing a temper tantrum in my arms. "That idiot! How dare he speak to my wife in such an arrogant manner! I might as well commit suicide right now so that he'll disappear from this world permanently!"

Alicia’s wedding once made headlines across all of New Yorke. The man who put the ring on her finger was Matteo Vitale, the youngest Don of the Vitale family. She was not a socialite heiress. She was a lawyer who had won countless cases for powerful families. She was also five years older than her husband. When Matteo was thirty and at the peak of his career, Alicia was already thirty-five. Back then, Matteo told her that age would never be a problem between them. As long as she wanted him, he would never let her go for the rest of his life. But in the fifth year of their marriage, a young woman burst into her office and dropped a divorce agreement on her desk. “I heard you’re the best divorce lawyer on New Yorke’s East Side. There isn’t a divorce case you can’t win, right? “I want to hire you to help my boyfriend get a divorce from his wife. “My boyfriend says his wife is thirty-five now. She smells old. Every time he touches her, he feels sick.” She opened the divorce agreement with practiced ease. She looked first at the names, as she always did. [Husband: Matteo Vitale [Wife: Alicia Leon] Her fingers paused for a brief moment. She was Alicia Leon!

Clive Hawkins, who had been giving me the cold shoulder, posted on X. [First 100 likes get a breakup cash giveaway.] In no time, it had 99 likes and reposts. I knew he was waiting for me to give in, just like how I begged him to delete it during the ten times we fought before. But this time, I reposted it myself and wrote, [Count me in.] Then, I blocked him on every platform. Three days later, his sister messaged me. [Clive saved you a front row seat. Stop hiding and come back. As long as you show up, he's willing to forgive you.] I glanced at the plane ticket on my desk and replied. [I'm busy.] I really was busy. I’d been admitted to graduate school at Redstone University, and my flight was leaving that night for orientation. From then on, we would be separated by thousands of miles, never to see each other again.

I'm the most sought-after makeup artist in horror games. Before each round begins, the bare-faced NPCs sit obediently in a row, waiting for me to work my magic. With my makeup skills, they're twice as intimidating to players, and their performance soars. Even the Demon Boss seeks me out. As I face the Demon Boss with all 16 heads and 32 eyes staring at me, the corner of my mouth twitches. "Sure, I can do your makeup, but it'll cost extra."

After receiving his bonus, my husband, John Anderson, used his savings and bought his mother a house in the city. Considering my mother-in-law, Mary Anderson’s age, it was not ideal for her to stay alone in the countryside. Hence, I transferred the money without any hesitation. However, when John went to fetch his mother for house-viewing, she appeared unexpectedly before my door. “Helen, I can understand that you feel unwell due to your pregnancy, but my husband left me so little money. I can’t give it all to you.” I was dumbfounded. Just when I was about to clarify matters, my husband called me. “Helen, Mom doesn’t like this house. The other house she likes is three hundred thousand dollars more expensive. Quick, transfer me the money. “Oh, by the way, I’m afraid Mom will feel bad about this, so I didn’t tell her the actual price. When we visit her, please don’t accidentally tell her this information. I’m afraid she’d feel embarrassed.” I touched my flat belly. “Mary, did you say that I’m pregnant?” The next second, Mary’s phone started to ring. “Mom, Helen’s feeling uncomfortable, and she wants to buy a massage chair. Please send me more money!” Mary was also dumbfounded. “Aren’t you John’s wife?”

After falling head over heels for Joe Smith for three years, I finally got the proposal I had been waiting for. However, on the day of our wedding, he did not show up until the wee hours of the morning. When I found him, Joe was drinking happily with a young girl in his arms. “I’m already tired of her clinginess. She’s a joke. Who else would want her?” Much later, he made me a wedding ring and proposed with my favorite jasmine flowers. But a muscular man opened the door instead. The man had two scratch marks on his neck and smirked at the disheveled Joe. “Isn’t it a bit too shameless of you to propose to a married woman?”

After silently contributing to his marriage for three years, Frederick York's wife demands a divorce, citing that she can't stand him. Then, when his true identity is revealed, his ex-wife and her family are filled with regret.