Ranboo Once Said

"You are mine," he said as his rough fingers met my lower lips and he was stroking my lips with his fingers. "Even if you like him or liked the way he talked with you, you are mine. Understood?" He asked making me flinch. "Tell me, do you like him?" He asked once again but I didn't reply. I was afraid by this side of him. I was leaving but he held my wrist and pushed me against the wall. "You are mine, Mrs. Naina Singhania," he whispered in my ears and even though I tried to control my tears, but it rolled down my cheek. "I hate you," I told him as he tried to wipe my tears with his fingers but I pushed him angrily. "Naina...I...I..." "I hate you," I shouted once again and ran from there before he could say anything. ***** Follow the journey of Mr. and Mrs. Singhania to see how they fight to get the happy ending with the person their heart craved for. *****

It's often said "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be." When you lose someone, sometimes they will find their way back to you. They'll find their way back into your life because maybe they have something else to teach you. Maybe they'll come back into your life at a time where they felt you need them the most. When they do, though, you will both no longer be the same people you once were. You won't understand each other in the same way. But, if they do find their way back, allow yourself to understand how beautiful your new bond with them could be and the new memories that can be made.

On her birthday, Jasmine instead received destruction. Her face was ruined by an accident, and the love she believed would last forever collapsed in an instant. “I’m disgusted by the way you look now,” Christopher said coldly, canceling their wedding without guilt. “Didn’t you promise you would stay with me?” Jasmine’s voice trembled. “That promise applied when you were still perfect,” the man replied cruelly. The betrayal did not stop there. Christopher chose Valentina—Jasmine’s stepsister, who had long been jealous and full of ambition. Even more painful, Jasmine’s biological father took Valentina’s side. The house turned into hell; insults and mockery became daily fare. Leaving with wounds and shattered pride, Jasmine nearly lost everything—until fate brought her together with a mysterious old man. Jasmine’s courage in saving the old man led her to Jaden King, the heir to a respected business empire. “You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy,” Jaden said gently, looking at Jasmine without disgust, without pity. From a discarded woman, Jasmine rose to become the wife of a business ruler. When she returned, Christopher and Valentina laughed at her. “Jaden King’s wife? Don’t joke,” they mocked. But the laughter turned into fear when Jaden appeared and said firmly, “She is my wife. And starting today, your lives are over.” Love, betrayal, rebirth, and revenge—will Jasmine forgive, or will she settle every wound that once destroyed her? Is this conversation helpful so far?

My husband, a regiment commander, once promised me he'd only accompany his depressed first love ninety-nine times. But when I finally reached that ninety-ninth tally, I saw the two of them locked in a tight embrace. After that, I stopped crying and begging him not to go to her. I only asked him for a safety locket—a small blessing for our soon-to-be-born child. At the mention of the baby, his expression softened. "When I get back," he said gently, "I'll go with you to the hospital for the checkup." I nodded obediently. I didn't tell him that ten days earlier, I had already filed for divorce. Now, our divorce was final.

My younger sister and I were born twins, yet from the very beginning, our parents had zero fondness for me. My sister was the family's good-luck charm, while I was hailed as the harbinger of misfortune. I was blamed for every calamity, while she got all the credit for every blessing. Even after my death, I heard them say, "If we had abandoned her at birth, or even ended her life then, none of this would have happened." I had once tried desperately to win their approval, only to be met with cold indifference. When I finally secured a coveted civil service post, they celebrated me for the first time in my life. I naively believed that I had been acknowledged at last. But then, they said, "Give your job to your sister. She needs it more." At that moment, something inside me completely died. I tried so hard to cling to the hard-won proof that I was not the family's misfortune, yet even that slipped through my grasp. In the end, I lost everything, even the life they had never once cherished.

"I'll take my wolf form, make a run immediately I do." A young blonde haired lady with big green eyeballs said to a frail looking red haired girl. "No! You might as well get yourself killed Ava." She mind linked back. "Trust me Diana, I'm your elder sister. Once you escape, you can come back for me later." Diana shook her head countless times, but then her sister was ready. "Go find mother's sword Diana, and you'll be safe. Once you'll see it, it'll recognize you, and come to you." She heard her sister say. Just immediately Diana ran, she turned back for a second hoping Ava would be behind her, but no, she saw nakura use a Silver blade to stab her sister by the chest. "RUN!" That was the last word Diana heard before running into the dark scary path she knew nothing about. "She's as good as dead." Nakura's voice came next.

My once best friend posted a photo on her social media account on the tenth anniversary of my marriage. In the photo, her daughter and my son were wrapped in my husband's and her arms. The caption said, 'The perfect pair.' I commented, 'Perfect indeed.' Soon, the post was deleted. The next day, my husband rushed home and asked me, "Sophie is finally recovering. Why are you provoking her?" My son even pushed me and accused me, "It's all your fault for making Tammy cry." I took out the divorce papers and threw them in their faces. "Well, it's my fault, so I quit your perfect family of four."

It was about time because my dad got a new girlfriend and said he wanted us to have a meal together to introduce the new woman into our lives. On the day we met, my college roommate saw my chat background, which had a photo of me and my dad, along with a series of transfer records. She lost her mind. She enlisted the support of our other roommates, who rarely paid me any attention and began to attack me, insisting that I was a side chick who deserved to die. I did not expect that my roommate would soon become my stepmom. Before I could explain, she accused me of trying to seduce my dad behind her back, shouting, "Shameless side chick! Going behind my back to seduce my boyfriend! All those times you said you were out studying?! Who knows if you were just meeting up with him?" I was once physically assaulted, stripped of my dignity, and forced to the restaurant for a public confrontation wearing ragged clothes. Then my dad came running to where I was hardly breathing and barely moving on the floor, bruised to the extreme. “Sweetheart, who did this to you?!”

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

I'd spent an entire year preparing for my son Tristan Pascall's spot at a top international school. By the final admissions review, I had every single document ready. All that was missing was the original copy of Richard Pascall and my marriage certificate. Once we handed that in, it would be official. But when we got to the admissions office, Richard turned on me, accusing me of arranging this without telling him. Before I could clap back, the admin frowned and said, "Ma'am, according to the system, Mr. Pascall's spouse isn't you." My whole body went cold. And then Iris Poole—who had been standing behind Richard this whole time—stepped up and slid her marriage certificate across the counter. The staff checked it, nodded, and said, "Mr. Pascall, Ms. Poole, your registration date is June, four years ago. Everything looks fine. You may proceed." June, four years ago. That was the exact month Richard held my hand in front of all our friends and family at our engagement party and promised I was his one true love. He had lied to me about that for the past seven years.