Rick's Son On Walking Dead

My husband Bruno's goomah was pregnant with their second child. At the family dinner, he caressed his lover Ava's rounded belly. "This one will be a boy, the future heir to the Marino family. As my wife, it is your duty to raise him." This was the second time he had openly acknowledged one of his bastards. I didn't make a scene like I had before. I just calmly lifted my head and looked Bruno straight in the eye. Raucous laughter erupted from the family members around the table. "Remember last time, when she acted like a madwoman? Looks like she's finally learned her place." "The Rossi family's businesses have all been carved up. What can she do besides be an infertile trophy wife? She'll be kicked to the curb sooner or later." Bruno's face was expressionless, allowing them to hurl their insults at me. I fought back the tears burning my eyes and even managed a small smile. "Bruno, let's get a divorce." Bruno looked as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, his lips curling into a dismissive smirk. "Liliana, if you can come up with the hundred million dollars you owe this family, I'll sign the papers right now. Otherwise, stop making a scene." I didn't argue, and just dialed an encrypted number. "I accept the terms we discussed." A lazy laugh echoed from the other end of the line. "A hundred million? Merely the cost of a port. I can have it for you anytime, my princess."

Miles Clark has forgotten everything about his past. His dreams of a half-frozen woman guarded by a white wolf deep in a forest may be clue to reclaiming his memories, but each night she and her familiar appear more fragile and weak. He knows he must light the fire to save them both and to reclaim his memories.

On Benedict Bradford’s birthday, he posted a link on social media with a taunting offer: [$1.99 buys you a prank—target: Sansa Stormcloud.] So when I arrived at his party, the guests drenched me in water, hurled glasses, smashed cake in my face, and shoved me down the stairs. Benedict sneered as he stood over me, arm slung around Lina Kipling. “You think you’re fit to marry into the Bradfords? Pathetic. “You’re not even in Lina’s league. You’re worth nothing more than a couple of dollars!” I picked myself up, dusted off my dress, and handed him an invitation. “You know, Benedict, the Bradfords have another heir. “And shortly afterwards, you’ll address me respectfully as your sister-in-law.”

Amelia blackwood used to be the wife of the world richest man, but not until her husband got married to his misstess the day she gave birth to their kids . Blinded by his love for him, She still agreed to be his second wife, refusing the divorce, but her husband and mistress killed her babies and framed her up for their death making her earn a life time in jail for the muder of her kids . Five years into her jail term, she was suddenly released with the fact that she was long lost eldest daughter of the shuan family making her rich over night . When Amelia got out, all she tasted for was revenge . She would have her revenge on those scumbags.

Title: Married To An Old Billionaire, In Love With His Son. Eve has no choice but to give up her own dreams due to her father's illness and the expensive operational costs. So she married an old billionaire who is old enough to be her grandfather. Despite the sexual harassment she faces on a regular basis, the humiliation she receives from the old man's son, Liam is another source of pain for Eve. Then, Eve's only thought is to make as much money as she can and get away from the family. Nevertheless, as Liam works with Eve, he gradually falls in love with the girl he used to loathe. What will he do about his hidden feelings for his stepmother?

Ginny White, tall and curvy, was a graduate from a famous university. She wore a long white dress. I'd fallen for her since I saw her for the first time, but she didn't pay any attention to me. I never expected that just half a day later, Ginny would be on her knees begging me to do such a thing to her, just to get a bite to eat.

-Who are you?" Finally, he stopped the silence. His words were strong, angry, and loud. "-What?" I felt so confused still couldn’t let my eyes from his new look. And his actions of killing without any emotions made my voice trembling. "-I...TOLD...YOU...WHO... THE FUCK... ARE... YOU...?" With stiff teeth he seemed to lose his patience, slowly and frighteningly, he asked, no, ordered to me, without lifting his eyes from me, with every word he took a step closer to me until I could smell the sweat, dirt smell of his ammunition from him. His hard chest-like rock was so close that it barely touched my body. I was shivering he was so scary and I still wanted him badly. "-Are you joking with me? How to understand, who am I?" I whispered... I stopped our deep gaze, even though it wasn't easy. -"What's happening here? Where are we? Why are you...." I couldn't finish one of my hundreds of questions when my husband turned his eyes away from me to his men. -"Take that strange ‘pause from his lips, his eyes traveled from the top of my head to my legs" bitch, to the cell, that little mouth soon will be open for me. And she will talk as well too."

I had promised my son that when he turned three, the three of us would go to the amusement park together as a family. But he never lived to see that birthday. My husband, Daniel Shaw, who was a perfect match for the bone marrow transplant, disappeared just before the surgery—phone off, leaving no trace. Without him, our son lost his last chance at survival. When Daniel finally came home, he asked, "Where's our son? Weren't we supposed to take him to the amusement park for his birthday?" Then his eyes fell on the urn. That was the moment he truly lost his mind.

To my parents, I was their obedient and kind daughter. To my students, I was their gentle and understanding piano teacher. To my audience, I was the star performer at the cabaret. Of all these different identities, my favorite was by far the last. I enjoyed the hungry gazes that fell on me, searing my skin like flames. I enjoyed the juxtaposition between my different identities, never tired of playing different roles. In a sense, I was born to act, and I was passionately devoted to each of my identities. So, won't you come watch me dance?