Santana Or Else Forget About It Novels & Stories

Some might forget us but I know some won't. We will forever stay in your mind and heart as Sabrina and Saint. And I, Saint Angelous Santillana declare that within this minute. Our journey is now at the end.

I behave insanely. This is because of Janu. She ruined our beautiful life...Yes! She ruined my life completely even after knowing my love. I never ever hope up with humanity for her again. I would make her understand how much it pains and will make her run out of my life. What a bloody creature she is!!!! I am the hero of the story but she changed me to the Villian role. I will make her run.....I blabbered and fell down.... "Can't Forget you, My love, "

Maybe a supreme being, the homeless guy, asked me a question that scared the innermost part of my heart. Whoever he was, he was pointing out to me the truth. “What.” He furrowed his forehead. “If.” He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Selene, putting these two words together has the power to haunt you for the rest of your life. This word what if will never lead you to the right path. You are like holding onto regrets, for the time wasted.”

"We...don't have to....I am content with this..." "Hush! Woman, you never cease to amaze me. I am not angry at you. I am angry at myself. Every time I leave you, you get a new mark or bruise or cut or scar or scrape. For my own sanity, yes we are getting married." Richard watched across the room as Meena's eyes got round with some unknown emotion.

“You’re overthinking everything. Go home, remind Dominique why he belongs to you, and stop acting like a love-struck fool.” I chuckled, though the sound didn’t quite reach my eyes. “You think that will solve everything?” “Maybe not everything,” he said, standing and fixing his jacket. “But it will make you remember who you are.” He clasped my shoulder, firm and grounding. “Control your house, Fernando, or it will start controlling you.” I nodded slowly. “You’re right.” “Of course I am.” Santiago smirked, finishing his drink. “Now, go home and fix that energy. I expect you to look a little less miserable the next time we meet.”

He glanced my way, gave a polite nod, and went back to scanning the crowd like a desperate man on a sinking ship—which, judging from the whispers I’d heard about his failing company, wasn’t far from the truth. As I walked past them, I caught bits of his conversation with a silver-haired investor. “…just need a small injection of capital… Madam Elle used to handle all that, but she vanished…” If only he knew. Alexander took the stage, while I waited at a corner. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us for this historic night. And now, I have the honor of introducing our

Whatever this is, we can work through it. "I am done with the theatrics!" His voice rose sharply enough that the couple at the next table glanced over. He did not seem to care. "Can you not get it through your head? Or does being mute mean you are stupid too? I said I am done, Ava. Done with you. All of this. I cannot fucking take this anymore so there is nothing to work through. You…embarrass me and I am tired of pretending that things are forever going to be a ray of sunshine between us."

“¡Mierda! You’re a veteran? At thirty-seven? How’s that even possible? Is that why your body looks like it's AI? Wait, wait. Forget I said that part. Delete that from your head.” “If you don’t shut up, I might just drown from your bad sense of humor,” Santiago managed as laughter made him throw his head back and rock his shoulders. Lola wore an embarrassed smile. “Seriously, though. How come this isn’t something people know about?” Santiago took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his damp hair. “Because I want to be in charge of what people know or do not know about me. I don’t want to give them everything, that’s too much leverage.”

Santi attempted to persuade me to change my decision, but I didn't even flinch. "Oh, fuck you!" I hissed, gritting my teeth. "Of course, it'll stay with me forever, exactly like what you made me do when I was a kid! But you?" I snarled. "You never look back and regret what you've done," I muttered, and he shook his head, a forlorn look on his face. But I don't detect any regret or sincerity in him; he appears soulless to me. There wasn't even a single tear that came out of his eyes.

It's been five years since I fell ill with depression, and I'm finally myself again. I can talk, laugh freely, and I actually have an appetite. The icing on the cake is that my husband, Ian Beaumont, and I are expecting our second child. At our New Year's Eve family gathering, Ian's godsister, Gemma Waverly, gets tipsy and starts making a scene. "I think it was about five years ago. I was dumped, and I took the car out for a little joyride while the surveillance cameras were under maintenance. "Guess what? The moment I stepped on the gas, a cat abruptly flew out of nowhere and slammed right into my hood. It yowled and bolted off." A faint, disdainful smile plays on her lips. "That damn