Rosas Drawing

—Necesito que me ayudes a simular un accidente de jet privado —dije en voz baja—. Es la única forma en que podré dejar a Luca Moretti. La gente decía que él había renunciado al trono de la Mafia por mí. Lo llamaban el hombre que cambió el poder por amor: el heredero que renunció a la sangre y al oro con tal de casarse con una mesera de los barrios bajos. Durante años, hizo que el mundo creyera en nosotros. Construyó imperios a mi nombre. Me enviaba rosas todos los lunes. Le dijo a la prensa que yo era su salvación. Pero el amor no siempre significa lealtad. Mientras yo me hacía la idea de que el “para siempre” existía, él construía un segundo hogar a mis espaldas: uno lleno de risas, juguetes y dos gemelos que tenían sus ojos. La noche en que desaparecí, su imperio ardió. Destrozó ciudades, sobornó gobiernos y enterró hombres vivos con tal de encontrarme. Pero para cuando lo hizo...ya me había ido. Y la mujer por la que una vez había muerto, ya no lo amaba lo suficiente como para mantener su vida anterior.

I am a postgraduate archaeology student whose fieldwork combines GIS technology with excavation, and during one project I become entangled in a concealed emotional relationship with two lecturers. Linus is restrained, intellectually rigorous, and emotionally distant, offering a sense of order and safety rooted in academic discipline, while Theo is charismatic, passionate, and ethically unstable, drawing me into intensity and risk. What begins as professional admiration develops into intimacy shaped by secrecy, hierarchy, and blurred boundaries. As the excavation exposes layered traces of past lives, I am forced to confront my own desire, ambition, and guilt, and the story ultimately centres not on choosing between two men, but on learning how to live with complexity and accept the consequences of crossing lines.

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

To encourage overall development, the kindergarten had asked each student to create a hand-drawn poster. My daughter Holly refused my help and insisted on doing it all on her own. Little did I know, most of the other children had their parents do the artwork for them. In comparison, Holly's delicate strokes were quickly dismissed. Not only was her work discarded into the trash, but her teacher also called her out in the parent group, criticizing her for being careless with the assignment. As I racked my brain trying to figure out how to help Holly regain her confidence in drawing, I was surprised to see Holly's artwork among the winning entries in the state-level children's art competition. But the signature wasn't hers—it belonged to another student from her class.

Cassie Jones was the girl who went unnoticed—plus-sized, shy, and silently battling her self-esteem issues. But she had a secret: a gigantic crush on Jeffery Richards, the star athlete, golden boy and basketball hero of their school. What she wasn't aware of was that he too idolized her, secretly drawing her and composing poetry about her silent beauty. That was until the day a cruel bet forced his secret feelings out in the worst way imaginable. Cassie, heartbroken, disappeared from his life. Thirteen years later, fate brings them together again. Cassie is a tough PR executive, prosperous, aggressive, and not interested in revisiting the pain of her past. But Jeffery is resolved to demonstrate to her that he has changed—that his love for her never has. Will she learn to trust him again, or will the past repeat itself?

Siete años juntos con Carlos, siete años de rumores nunca confirmados.​​ Él me dejaba revisar su celular sin objeciones, reportaba cada viaje de negocios con detalles. Nunca encontré una sola prueba de infidelidad. Hasta el día de nuestra boda. Después de que el presentador narró cómo Carlos voló desde el extranjero mis rosas blancas favoritas, la pantalla gigante que debía mostrar nuestro video de siete años, de repente transmitió el llanto desgarrador de un bebé. ​​En el video, Carlos sostenía a un bebé recién nacido en una sala de hospital. Su secretaria, Serena, recostada en su hombro, usando un anillo de diamantes idéntico al mío.​​ Serena corrió hacia mí con lágrimas que era solo un malentendido, y Carlos, con tono frío: —Es una madre soltera, la ayudé por compasión como su jefe, ¿vas a hacer escándalo por esto? El silencio en el salón fue absoluto, todos esperaban mi explosión. Luego me quité tranquilamente el anillo de compromiso y se lo devolví: —Por supuesto que no. Les deseo felicidad.

They never knew about her… A fairy tale, for Irwen, was something truly extraordinary—a destiny tied by a bond that seemed unbreakably strong and magical. But her mate had betrayed her, treating everything she had done as meaningless nonsense. Fine. Irwen understood—and decided that betrayal deserved a revenge. The Alpha King had exceeded her expectations. He helped her, and even proposed a marriage contract. He began to heal her frozen heart, drawing them into a more complicated relationship. To Irwen, it felt like stepping back into a fairy tale—one that might end in pain again. “I want you to be my Luna.” “I will protect you.” “I will stay by your side.” But will those promises hold true when they’re faced with something that stands in opposition? The healer and her chains…

I leave my boyfriend without a word when he's at his lowest. He later makes a name for himself and forces me to marry him. Our relationship goes viral online and becomes the subject of everyone's envy. They all say he's desperately in love with me, but he later sleeps with other women in our bed. I fall from grace and become the city's biggest laughingstock. I don't cause a scene. Instead, I move into the guest bedroom and leave the master bedroom for them. He's furious as he grips my neck roughly. He bites my lips, drawing blood. "Why aren't you mad?" Because I'm sick. I don't have the time to wait for him to see the error of his ways anymore.

— Preciso da sua ajuda para forjar a queda de um jato particular — eu disse calmamente. — É a única maneira de eu conseguir deixar Luca Moretti. As pessoas diziam que ele havia renunciado ao trono da Máfia por minha causa. Chamavam ele do homem que trocou o poder pelo amor, o herdeiro que abandonou sangue e ouro apenas para se casar com uma garçonete das favelas. Durante anos, ele fez o mundo acreditar em nós. Ele construiu impérios sob o meu nome. Ele me enviava rosas toda segunda-feira. Ele dizia à imprensa que eu era a sua salvação. Mas amor nem sempre significa lealdade. Enquanto eu estava ocupada acreditando no para sempre, ele estava construindo um segundo lar pelas minhas costas. Um lar cheio de risadas, brinquedos, e filhos gêmeos que tinham os seus olhos. Na noite em que desapareci, o império dele queimou. Ele devastou cidades, subornou governos, e enterrou homens vivos apenas para me encontrar. Mas, quando ele fez isso eu já tinha partido. E a mulher por quem ele um dia morreria não o amava mais o suficiente para permanecer viva.

Riya Rolfe thinks that stories about werewolves and Lycans are just old wives tales so she gets a huge and unexpected shocker when she wakes up as a werewolf and finds herself in a world where werewolves like her are the property of Lycans to do with as they wish and she has to compete for the affections of the Lycan Prince. “What are you wearing?” He said, drawing so close that the smell of cedarwood and the sea filled my senses as he fingered the necklace which’s pendant disappeared into the hollow between my breasts while I struggled to pretend like I was not moved by his actions. “It was a gift.” I said straightening up and staring brazenly into his eyes which glowed dangerously and he growled and snapped the necklace off my neck in one fluid move. “You belong to me, only I can adorn you with jewelry and my touch.”