Sans Disbelief Mga Nobela at Kwento

In the Valentino family, the rules were absolute—the title of Don passed only to the eldest son of the eldest line. On the day I was due to give birth, my water broke. The contractions came faster and harder, each wave of pain stronger than the last, until my consciousness began to drift. The baby's head was already crowning. Renato knelt beside the bed, gripping my hand, his eyes filled with what looked like heartbreak. I thought he would be my strength—my anchor. But through the haze, I heard him speaking to the midwife. "Control the dosage. Just delay Ellen's delivery for three hours." "But she is already fully dilated. Forcibly delaying it could be dangerous…" The midwife's voice trembled. "It's fine. She wasn't due yet anyway. She only went into labor because she secretly used induction drugs. Delaying the birth will only benefit her." Disbelief crashed over me. I tried with everything I had to speak—to explain. But then I saw him glance at his watch, murmuring to himself, "My sister-in-law is only five centimeters dilated. If we stall for three hours, my brother's child will be the eldest grandson. This is a promise I made to my brother." Terror seized me. I tried to struggle, but the needle had already pierced my skin. In an instant, the child that had been about to emerge was forced violently back into my body. The pain doubled, twisting through me like a storm. Darkness swallowed my vision, and I lost consciousness. When I came to, I had been dragged into an underground storage room. Only after his sister-in-law's son had been safely born did Renato remember me. When he returned—holding the toy he had personally made for our soon-to-be-born child—and ordered his assistant to bring me back to the operating room… All he found were two cold, lifeless bodies.

I check on family businesses in the countryside with my girlfriend, Mildred McClure, in tow. At noon, we stop by my uncle, Barron Cortez's, place for a simple lunch. Just as we are getting ready to leave, his new wife, whom he married just six months ago, Hilda Ross, rushes out and demands that we settle the bill. "Elden, you two just had the Supreme Farmhouse Set Meal, which is 1,888.80 dollars, and your girlfriend picked three organic, pesticide-free tomatoes in the garden. That's 199.80 dollars. "With an 80% service charge, your total comes to 3,800 dollars." Mildred is stunned. "Elden, do we have to pay to eat at your uncle's place?" I start to feel embarrassed, and my expression darkens as I look at Hilda, my supposed aunt, who's barely any older than me. "I've grown up eating at my uncle's place and never paid a single penny. Besides, your prices are downright outrageous!" Hilda calmly whips out a price menu and righteously declares, "That's all ancient history. Now, we're running a farmhouse business where all prices are clearly marked, so everyone pays the same rate. "Barron said you're some big boss in the city. Surely you're not going to stiff us over a little bill, are you?" She steps in front of the gate to block the exit with her body and shoots me a contemptuous look. "Even family settles their accounts. If you don't pay up today, don't even dream about stepping through this door!" While Mildred panics, I laugh in disbelief before taking out my phone and dialing Barron's number. "Uncle Barron, Hilda wants to settle accounts between family, so don't you think it's time we settled our accounts too?"

My Alpha fiancé, Andre Ackhurst, and his brother, Easton Ackhurst, are identical twins. They have the same looks and scent—no one would be able to tell them apart if not for their starkly different personalities. After a savage pack war, Andre dies, and Easton lives. But when Easton takes over as Alpha, he insists on inheriting both lines of the family—he claims to want to care for me, his sister-in-law. When his girlfriend, Callie Wentworth, learns of this, she berates me for shamelessly seducing her boyfriend. That night, I head to my in-laws' room, wanting to ask them to talk Easton out of his ridiculous idea. However, I hear my mother-in-law say, "Andre, Easton is the one who died on the battlefield. Why did you impersonate him and say you're the one who died?" "Easton" sighs. "Callie is an Omega, and she's weak. Her body won't be able to take it when she learns Easton is the one who died. I have to love her for life on Easton's behalf. "Yes, it's unfair to Jane. However, I'm sure she'll stick it out because she's already carrying my pup. Besides, I'll secretly care for her. She's so kind and considerate—I'm sure she'll understand why I've done this." I'm in disbelief after hearing this. Finally, I understand that my fiancé didn't die. He merely pretended to be his brother so he could comfort another woman. During breakfast the following morning, I tell my in-laws my plan. "Thank you for helping me move past Andre's death. I've thought things through, and I've decided to abort the pup. I'm going to start afresh." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, "Easton" suddenly shatters the bowl he holds as he feeds Callie.

When we're playing cards during the holidays, my cousin, Owen Thompson, suddenly calls it boring and tells us that he wants to make a big gamble. Then, he tosses his BMW keys onto the table and asks if we're bold enough to follow up with our own bets. I know that Owen is just trying to flaunt the fact that he's bought himself a BMW. Everyone is stunned by his antics. They quickly say, "This is just a game. We're not going to bet anything else." After that, they start complimenting how amazing Owen is to be able to own a BMW at such a young age. I, on the other hand, hesitate to do so. After all, my trump cards are a set of Ks. Having gotten his ego boosted by the compliments, Owen is about to flush the deck when I put my car keys belonging to a cheaper, rundown car. Then, I mumble, "I'm going to follow up with a bet of my own." Everyone falls silent at my statement. They just stare at me in disbelief, whereas Owen widens his eyes out of shock. Almost immediately, things grow heated between us. The moment both of us place our car keys onto the betting table, our feeble relationship as cousins is quick to vanish. But I don't regret my decision. Owen is the one who has decided to bet his BMW, after all. Since he's capable of being this ruthless toward his own relatives, I might as well not give a damn about his feelings at all. Owen lets out a cold chuckle before saying, "How much do you have in that pocket of yours, huh? You really think you can scare me, chump? I have a BMW, for crying out loud! You should gather more money first before placing your bet! Don't go around scamming others with just a shitty car!"

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

"If I knew I would lose all of it, I would have let you go from the beginning." Those were the last words Nadine said before collapsing from falling down the stairs. "If you had never been in my life, you wouldn't have lost it all." And the last thing she remembered was the cold face of her husband, who was disgusted to see her. Nadine thought it was the end of her life. And when she opened her eyes hell would await her. "Wait.. Why is it so comfortable in hell? And why is it similar to my room?" When Nadine opened her eyes she didn't feel any pain in her head and she was still wearing her nightdress. The sound of her mobile phone alarm made her startled. And what surprised her most, she found out the date on her phone. She returned three years ago. More precisely, one day before her wedding day with her husband. In disbelief, he circled her house, asking the servant what date it was. But they have the same answer. "God... Must be joking! Ha ha ha... For all day...." She laughed frantically. "If You want me to pay for my sin, choose before I've forced him to marry me." She bit her nail nervously and began to think. "I separated him from his lover once to marry me. Make an innocent man become a cheater and a despicable husband. Kill our unborn baby to get his attention. And end my life in misery. Now I have a second chance. I have to fix everything. Everything.... Maybe he and my unborn baby will forgive me and I won't die young." How can Nadine fix this mess? Can she get her husband's forgiveness? Or will she end up losing everything like before?

"No, this is a mistake! A wolfless, overweight werewolf can't be my mate." His words hit me hard. Whispers erupt from the crowd, murmurs of disbelief and judgment that swirl around me like a storm. But I won't let them see how much it hurts. I won't give him the satisfaction. I square my shoulders, forcing a smile that feels like it's going to crack my face. "Well, Bran, I guess the Moon Goddess has a sense of humour after all," I say, despite the pain running through me. "Too bad she didn't give you one." Everywhere is silent now, shocked by my words. Bran's eyes turn red with anger. But I hold my ground, refusing to let him see how much I'm breaking inside. "Talia," he begins, but I cut him off before he can say more. He is going to reject me anyway. "Don't worry, Bran," I say sarcastically. "I'm sure there's some loophole you can find to get out of this. After all, you can't have someone like me ruining your perfect reputation, right?" He turns away. "This conversation is over, Talia. You should leave." I feel the sting of his rejection like a physical blow, but I don't let it show. I won't give him or anyone the satisfaction of seeing me break. Instead, I nod, keeping my head high as I turn on my heel and walk away. Talia, a wolfless wolf in her pack, has been a subject of mockery in her pack just because she's fat, wolfless, and eats like a glutton. Her situation turns worse when the Moon Goddess decides to give her Alpha Bran, the pack's Alpha, as a mate. He rejects her on the spot. What will be Talia's fate after the rejection? Let's see.

-Je ne veux pas d'une relation en ce moment. -Qui t'a parlé de relation?minaude Elyn au creux de son oreille qu'elle mordille au passage. Laisse-moi m'occuper de toi. -C'est vraiment ce que tu veux? lui demande Hendrick. À une seule condition. ajoute-t-il sans attendre de réponse. -Laquelle? demande Elyn intriguée. -Ce sera juste charnel entre nous. Pas de place pour les sentiments, encore moins pour l'amour. Elle déglutit devant autant de froideur dans sa voix. -Marché conclut. ***** Planté devant l'autel le jour de son mariage, Hendrick atterit dans un bar pour faire passer sa frustration et sa colère, où il va faire la connaissance d'Elyn. Après des nuits passées ensembles, ils continuent à se voir chacun dans un but précis. Elyn; pour de l'argent parce qu'il est juste un client, et Hendrick pour le plaisir. Mais est-ce vraiment juste du sexe entre eux ou l'amour s'en est mêlé? Une seule règle, pas de place pour les sentiments, encore moins pour l'amour...

My fiancé's junior colleague went around the hospital every day calling herself "the best girl". When a patient with acute appendicitis was admitted, she mistakenly prescribed laxatives instead of proper treatment. The patient nearly went into shock and died. After the hospital was reported by the patient's family, she simply smiled and said, "I don't even need a supervising doctor to prescribe medication anymore. I'm such a good girl!" On another occasion, she failed to order routine pre-op blood work for a surgical patient. During the procedure, a visiting senior surgeon was exposed and later contracted HIV. She actually puffed out her chest and said, "Even if everyone had to stay up all night helping me save the doctor, I'm still the best girl!" I protested more than once and urged my fiancé to dismiss her. He refused every time. He brushed it off with a laugh, saying "this good girl" just needed time and experience. Then, a prominent patient was transferred from a military hospital for surgery. She secretly tampered with the medical records, switching the pathology findings from the left lung to the right. She even revised the surgical plan, recommending removal of the patient's completely healthy right lung. Luckily, I caught the mistake in time, restored the correct pathology report, and performed the surgery successfully. After the patient recovered, he asked for our team to be recognized. To my disbelief, Elena Bakers ran to my fiancé in tears. "I wrote the entire report by myself! All by myself! I'm the best little girl! "Why do you always take credit away from me? It took so much courage for this little girl to be brave just once! "You're all horrible!" Elena stormed out of the hospital and was struck and killed by a car on the spot. My fiancé did not say a word. However, on the very day I was appointed hospital director, he produced falsified evidence accusing me of altering records and causing multiple medical accidents to advance my career. I was arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. As the verdict was delivered, he looked at me with unmistakable satisfaction. "You'll never make up for what you owe Elena. Not in this lifetime." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Elena altered the surgical plan.