Skeleton Flower Myth Mga Nobela at Kwento

The night the family’s don was attacked, my husband had abandoned his post to win back his misbehaving mistress. The first time I lived through this, I activated his communication device to summon him back. He thus saved the don and rose through the ranks. However, his mistress had died in the firefight, and he blamed it all on me. Thus, on my delivery date, he dumped me in an abandoned factory and had some stray dogs rip me and my baby apart. “There were so many bodyguards there that night. Why did you have to call me back? You knew that she would die! You did this on purpose!” Somehow, right before I died, I went back in time to that night. I did not activate the communication device this time. I threw it into the fountain and watched it sink. Then, although I was eight months pregnant, I shielded the don and took the bullet meant for him.

My boss, Paul Cunningham, blew a major investment. When the board came after him, he shoved me out as the fall guy. After I got fired, I couldn't keep up with the mortgage. As if things weren't bad enough, my husband fell sick and needed money fast. I went back to ask for severance. Paul stayed in his luxury car and flicked a couple of hundred bucks at me. "Severance?" he scoffed. "Selene, you cost me billions. And you still have the nerve to ask me for money?" He smirked. "Take it. Use it to pick out a decent urn for your husband." I stood there, watching the car disappear down the street, my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. That night, I dropped a bomb in a large investor group chat. [Hi, I'm looking for new job opportunities. I have years of experience cooking the books, and my ex-boss loved my work!]

I loved Adriano Ferraro—yeah, that Don—for five freaking years. He wasn't just my fiancé; he was my anchor in a world where loyalty got tested, and weakness got you killed. We had it all mapped out—dreams, plans, a future we actually thought we owned. Until I lost our baby. I reached for him, shaking, desperate for anything. But comfort never came. Instead, it was her. His stepsister, propped up. "Don't buy her act. She's just fishing for attention—again." That snake smiled like she just won a prize for emotional torture, dripping venom while fanning the flames. And Adriano? He bought it. He turned away. In that moment, it hit me—I wasn't just grieving. I was completely alone. The kid I carried, the future I built in my head? Gone. And so was I. I walked out. On him. On the Ferraro Family I was stupid enough to think I could belong to. All I left behind was silence. Empty space where we used to be. Now Adriano's drowning in regret, but it's too damn late. The life we should've had, the love we should've built? Dust. And her? The stepsister who ruined it all? She's paying for every lie.

Alaric and I had been mates for five years, and I had believed with all my heart that I would become the first female Gamma of the pack by proving myself in the warrior’s trial. I had trained relentlessly, sharpening my claws and honing my instincts, ready to fight for my rightful place. But fate had other plans. Three days before the trial, I was ambushed by rogues. They didn't just attack me—they hunted me like prey. They tormented me with the silver knife so that my wolf was dead. The scent of death clung to me, my wolf howling in agony, desperately trying to heal, but the wounds ran too deep. As I lay barely conscious on the blood-stained sheets, I heard my husband's cold, indifferent voice. "Is she dead?" The witch doctor hesitated before answering, "No, but—" "It doesn’t matter," Alaric interrupted, Coat her wounds with wolfsbane and silver—make sure it seeps into her blood, burns through her veins, and poisons her wolf beyond repair. I want her body to reject her own nature, so she will never heal. There will only be one Gamma in this pack, and that's Serina." In that moment, the truth became clear—I had never truly stood a chance in the warrior’s trial I had dreamed of. The battle had been decided long before I ever stepped into the arena.

After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long. Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare. My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live. I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace. My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message. It was from Mom. [Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.] My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad. Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her. Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together. Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future. None of them knew I did not have a future. After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.

Jessica came to her senses under the bed of her fiancé and good friend’s, regaining her IQ, and couldn’t go back ever since. The douchebag: “Jessica, prepare a birthday gift to celebrate my dad’s birthday.” “Sorry, now I am the chairman, it is him who should pay tribute!” Jessica’s scum girlfriend: “Jessica, can you let me host the marriage show?” “You said that you haven’t experienced the pure love, so don't even think about it!” Jessica tore off the fake masks of the scumbags’ and turned to a pair of ink eye pupils: “It does feel cool to slap others, but don’t forget what your identity is!” “What identity?" Christian Maddox held her waist lightly, his face without missing a beat: “You should ask the little prince in your belly...”

My birthday present this year is a written contract titled 'Behavioral Reform Contract'. My fiance, who was the mafia head Matteo Giovanni, and my parents have already signed their names at the bottom. Together, they had me sent to the Behavioral Correction Center. … The windows are always shut, and the sunlight is filtered through the metal window bars. They drug, reprimand, and ostracize me to make me shove my feelings of aggrievement down. Even while I am being humiliated and punished, they teach me to force a smile and maintain a steady breath. It was all done in the name of "treating" me. A year passes, and I go from being a so-called "troublemaker" to their ideal version of me—quiet, elegant, and utterly perfect. Matteo beams at me and says, "You've finally become my perfect wife. We can finally marry." I match his smile, a gesture that they think means obedience from my part. However, it is not true. It is just me bidding my farewell before I leave for good. There's something I don't understand, however. They constantly found me lacking, so now that I am gone from their lives, why are they falling apart?

Anathea Jacobson has had a crush on Gregory Sinclair for ten years. She thinks marrying him is a dream come true. Even if he's just a block of ice now, she'll surely be able to melt him over time. However, all she ever gets is his ice-cold treatment. He's gentle and tender to his true love, but he scorns and neglects her. He also mistreats and humiliates her… Anathea endures it all because they have a son. For his sake, she's willing to cling to her title of Mrs. Sinclair and cage herself in this loveless marriage for the rest of her life. This changes when she's abducted. Gregory spends the night with his true love, and even her beloved son abandons her—he wants to have Gregory's true love as his mother! That's when Anathea sees sense. Her husband will never love her, and her son will never appreciate her. If that's the case, she doesn't want them anymore. She wants to live for herself! … After the divorce, Anathea picks up floral art again. She sets up a company, makes big money, and wins various awards. She wants to give herself all the love she deserves so that she'll go back to being the lively, vivacious woman she once was. Gregory panics when he sees the men surrounding her and vying for her affections. He falls to his knees before her, his eyes rimmed with red as he pleads, "I love you, Nat. Please don't leave me." Anathea sneers. "Your love is too little, too late, Mr. Sinclair." Her son clings to her legs and wails. "Don't abandon me, Mom!" She pushes him away impassively. "Don't call me that. I'm not your mother."

Leo Carter and I are childhood sweethearts. I once took a knife for him when the Rogue King tried to assassinate him. Since then, he's treated me like his treasure. He's sworn to love only me for life. On the day I turn 18, we become fated mates with the Moon Goddess as a witness. I say to him, "I'll leave you forever if you ever betray me, Alpha Leo." He holds me tightly as tears fill his eyes. He tells me he'll never let something like that happen. After we marry, he drives away all the women in his life. He even expels a beautiful she-wolf from the pack when she confesses her love for him. That's not all. He builds the Wolf Tribe's largest amusement park for me as a symbol of our love. However, I find a vibration device in his car when I'm three months pregnant. It kills me inside. I ingest a potion I bought from a witch and forcibly break my mate bond with Leo. Then, I disappear from his world.

At the celebration where Lorenzo Alvarez is crowned the new mafia boss, his men arrange a few performances. A dancer in a backless top and short skirt twists around the pole under the lights. "Don't look," he murmurs, covering my eyes with his hand. "This kind of cheap entertainment isn't worthy of you." His men jump in immediately. "Lorenzo still spoils Ms. Valenti after all these years. That kind of devotion is rare. We're so jealous." "A man as loyal and single-minded as Lorenzo is hard to find." I rest a hand on my belly, planning to tell him tonight that I am pregnant. But when I return from the restroom, I see the same man who had just held me in his arms leaning back in his chair while the dancer straddles his lap. Lorenzo slips his business card and a thick fold of cash into the waistband of her skirt. He laughs, relaxed and unbothered. "Isabella is wonderful, sure, but life needs a little passion. This ragazza is just something new. A bit of fun. "Keep your mouths shut. Don't go running to Isabella and upset her. Otherwise, you'll have a problem." Cold rushes through me. I do not approach or confront Lorenzo. I simply take out my phone and answer the email I have been avoiding for days. "I agree to participate in the confidential experiment."