Silent Photo

I am forced to become the slave of a cruel, dark, and powerful dragon prince from the Raven clan. A misunderstanding pushed my already miserable life into hell. He used me, bullied me, and made me his slave. I cannot live like this, but he will never let me die either. His obsession with me is scary. My misery will make his day. But something changed, and so so did he. The intensity of his obsession increased. He is Raphael Raven. He is a prince. My name is Valarie and I am nobody. This is our story. A time when Dragons rule the world. A place where humans are deemed as silent spectators and have no say in anything. In that world and time, a dark prince is born, to make a place in history, and write his story in blood. "Please, don't " she begged him. "If you think that your innocent act would melt my heart, then you are mistaken. Now strip " Raphael growled, which made her jump with fright.

Victor and I were nothing more than a pair of sworn enemies married inside the camp. He hated me for handing over my frail sister to the research institute, all so they could extract the antiviral serum from her blood. And I hated him for never seeing anyone but her, even in the apocalypse, when she could barely lift a metal rod. For the ten years of the apocalypse, the words we said to each other most often were, "Die a miserable death." … However, when the zombie horde finally broke through the last line of defense, he chained me to the modified mech truck and went out alone to face it. "Live…" I watched as the tide of corpses swallowed him whole, the crack of breaking bones mixing with the sound of flesh being torn apart. On the edge of death, he pulled out my sister's faded photo and placed it over the one clean spot on his chest. "This life is yours. But if there's a next one, don't go near her again." … That night, when I returned, I blew up the camp. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the zombie king. His razor-sharp claws closed around my throat, and I smiled as I took hold of his hand. "Let's make a deal. Give humans five more years, and I'll willingly be your queen." Last time, he gave his life to save me. This time, I'll be the monster—so they can all get what they want.

My residential area suddenly catches on fire, and the twins my husband had with his first wife are trapped in the room. This time, I call 911 without hesitation. After informing my husband of the fire, I don't stop him from leaving. In my past life, when the fire broke out, my husband was about to leave on a vacation with his ex-wife and true love. The trip was to a deserted island—it was to make up for past regrets. I ripped his flight ticket to shreds, stopping him from leaving the house. We successfully saved the kids. After the fire, my husband hurried to the island. However, he learned his ex-wife was declared missing after being taken away by a strong wave. He was calm and composed after returning, even being extra caring to me. Three months later, I discovered I was pregnant. I wanted to surprise him, but my vision went blurry. I collapsed on the floor while twitching violently. He stood aside and watched me coldly. Then, he placed a photo of his ex-wife before me. "You've gotten your wish, Caroline. Are you happy now that you've killed Sasha? You can accompany her now! No, you don't deserve that. An evil woman like you only deserves to go to the underworld!" I breathe my last breath as my vision clears, allowing me to see the frostiness in his eyes. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day the fire broke out.

Un soir de plus, mon mari n'est pas rentré pour le dîner pourtant c'était notre troisième anniversaire de mariage. Après plusieurs appels sans réponse il finit par m'envoyer un message contenant une photo de ma demi-soeur et lui entrain de s'embrasser en me disant : voilà ton cadeau, joyeux anniversaire chérie. Francis Delaunay et sa famille m'ont toujours humilié parcequ'après trois ans de mariage je n'ai pas pu donner d'enfant à mon mari. Peu de temps après notre anniversaire il m'annonce que celle-ci porte son enfant. S'en est trop, je vais me venger. Divorcer? Ça jamais, je veux assister de près à sa descente aux enfers. Je vais tous les détruire, tous ceux qui jusqu'ici m'ont méprisé. Mon père vient de me léguer tout son empire. il est le chef de la mafia orchidée, la plus grande et la plus puissante organisation du pays qui influence toutes les sphères du pouvoir. Je ne reculerai devant rien pour assouvir ma vengeance, j'irai jusqu'à me salir les mains s'il le faut. Qui pourra m'arrêter ?

Je suis morte le jour où je devais recevoir la médaille du service distingué de la meute. Trois heures après ma mort, mes parents, mon frère et mon compagnon venaient de terminer la fête de remise du diplôme qu'ils avaient organisée pour ma sœur. Pendant que ma sœur Élise publiait une photo de famille chaleureuse sur Instagram, j'étais enfermée dans notre sous-sol, appuyant sur mon téléphone avec ma langue pour appeler à l'aide. La seule personne qui a répondu était mon compagnon, Richard. Tout ce qu'il a dit, c'était : « Sophie, arrête de faire des histoires. La fête de remise du diplôme d'Élise est importante. Assez de crises de colère ! » C'était la quatre-vingt-dix-neuvième fois qu'ils faisaient cela. Je gisais dans une mare de mon propre sang, les poumons immobiles. Ils pensaient que je faisais juste une scène, que je me cachais quelque part, que s'ils me donnaient une leçon, je reviendrais en rampant. Mais ils ne savaient pas, j'étais à la maison tout ce temps. J'étais déjà morte.

After eight years of marriage, I finally get pregnant with Claude Frey's child. It's my sixth round of IVF, and my last chance. The doctor says I can't put my body through it again. I'm overjoyed, ready to share the good news with him. But a week before our anniversary, I received an anonymous photo in the mail. In it, he was bending down to kiss another woman's pregnant belly. That woman is his childhood sweetheart, the one his family watched grow up. She's gentle and well-mannered, and the kind of daughter-in-law every parent dreams of. The funniest part is that his entire family knows about her pregnancy, except me. I'm just the punchline in their joke. It turns out that the marriage I've been holding together despite all my wounds is nothing but a carefully crafted lie. Fine. I don't want Claude anymore, and I'll never let my child be born into a world built on lies. I book my ticket to leave on our eighth anniversary. It's also the very day he's supposed to take me to see the sea of roses. Before we got married, he promised me a sea of flowers all my own. But instead, I find him in front of the rose garden, kissing his pregnant childhood sweetheart. After I leave, he starts searching for me everywhere. "Don't go, please?" he begs. "I was wrong. Don't leave." He finally remembers the promise he'd made to me and plants the most beautiful roses in the world in that garden. But I don't need it anymore.

I have been married to Andrew Connolly for four years, but whenever his gaze meets mine, there is no recognition at all. Even my voice doesn't register. He remembers everyone around him, yet the one person he never remembers is that I am his wife. If I put on a hat, he asks who I am. When I tie my hair up, he assumes I am a new hire at his company. To help him remember, I repeat the same outfit, the same makeup, the same hairstyle. Still, despite my daily presence, he treats me like a stranger. I tell myself Andrew is simply buried in work, that the neglect is accidental, right up until a concert night. I watch him cut through the crowd and embrace his first love, whom he has not seen in years. When the stage suddenly collapses, I seize his arm and beg, "Honey, please save me." Andrew shoves me away, his voice flat and cold. "You're not my wife. My wife is at home." I am crushed beneath the falling debris. Choking on blood, I can only watch as Andrew rescues his first love and walks away. That is when I realize it's not that he can't remember me, he just doesn't love me. The bodyguards drag me out of the wreckage. Later, I spend a month confined to bed with serious injuries. While I am in the hospital, I get a photo of Andrew kissing his first love. The blows land one after another and mercilessly jerk me awake. I am done with love, and I am done with him!

Ce jour-là, j'ai eu une fausse couche accompagnée d'une hémorragie. Le même jour, mon mari a publié une photo des petits pieds d'un nouveau-né dans ses moments de Facebook avec un texte : « Bienvenu dans ce monde, mon petit ange. Papa te protègera toujours. » J'ai composé son numéro de téléphone, les mains toutes tremblantes. « Nous avons perdu notre bébé. Peux-tu venir à l'hôpital s'il te plaît ? » De l'autre bout du fil, le cri d'un nouveau-né a résonné dans mes oreilles, ainsi que la voix impatiente de mon mari : « Il faut que tu acceptes le destin. Prends soin de toi-même. Rose vient d'accoucher et a besoin de moi. Je ne peux pas la laisser toute seule. » Sur ces mots, il m'a raccroché au nez, me laissant m'effondrer seule sur le lit froid de l'hôpital. Après un long moment, j'ai essuyé mes larmes et a appelé le numéro de Louis Dulac, un grand rival de mon mari. « Épouse-moi et je t'apporterai toute la famille Dubois en dot. Tout ce que je te demande est de faire tomber Joseph Fouquet. Es-tu partant ? »

She was back. She is innocent and beautiful. She was intimidated. He was ambitious. He is kind and handsome. He falls in love. In the sultry haze of passion’s fire, Two hearts collided, desire unbridled. Their love, a clandestine affair, Igniting flames that danced and swirled. Amidst tangled sheets and whispered vows, they wove a tale of stolen moments, Each touch a confession, each kiss a plea, To drown in the depths of their shared ecstasy. The moon bore witness to their stolen nights, As they traced constellations on bare skin, Their secrets etched in sweat and sighs, A love forbidden, yet impossible to rescind. But dawn arrived, cruel and unyielding, tearing them apart like fragile petals. Promises whispered, promises broken, Their hearts left bleeding, forever unsettled. And so, they became ghosts of passion, haunted by memories of that steamy affair, Their love a bittersweet ache, a silent confession, In the quiet hours when the world ceased to care. For love, once ignited, never truly dies, It lingers in the shadows, a smoldering flame, A testament to the heat of their stolen nights, A tale of love after a steamy affair, untamed.

After I got pregnant, I witnessed my boyfriend's grandmother's death. She left behind a secret, and now, everyone who knows that secret is dead. First, it was my boyfriend's father who died. My boyfriend's mother followed soon after. Lastly, my boyfriend died too. He ended his life by overdosing right before my eyes. The media went wild. They dug obsessively for the truth. Again and again, the police summoned me for questioning. Online hate toward me was overwhelming. Everyone wants to know what the secret is. People claim I cursed my boyfriend's entire family to death, just to keep the secret to myself. I stay silent, never saying a word in defense of myself. On the seventh day after my boyfriend had passed, I spot someone at his funeral. At that moment, I place my hand on my swollen belly. I am utterly calm and at peace. It is time for me and my child to die too.