Romans & histoires Skeleton Hand Holding

"Who's that woman you're with on this picture? Are you the father of that baby she's holding?" Tears started to run down my cheeks. "Are you having an affair?!" I shouted at him, while my heart seems to be breaking into pieces. I gave everything I had for him, because that's how I love. My only dream is to have a happy and complete family with him, to have a child, but it seems that he's already fulfilling that dream to another woman. What can you really do if the man who promised you in front of God, that he would love you faithfully, is already secretly having an affair?

Apart from the traumas of her past, Harley's life is going perfectly well until Jim, her boyfriend decides to relocate when he got a job in London. Harley's misery leads her to cross paths with the arrogant billionaire, Antonio. Their first impression of each other is bad and Antonio will stop at nothing to make her lose her job. When Antonio ask her to be his personal nurse in order to take his revenge, Harley feels it is time to take her revenge on the Billionaire but something is holding her back. Who will win this battle of revenge? The arrogant billionaire or his crazy nurse?

Damien had hunted down a rare white fox. "Skin it. Have the pelt made into a fur cloak and sent to Heidi." He tossed the dead fox to one of his men as he gave the order. The man nodded, but stole a glance at me. Only then did Damien seem to remember that I was the one he was engaged to. "Take what's left and make a hand warmer out of it. Give that to Lucienne." The whole pelt went to Heidi. The scraps from the belly came to me. Later, I became Damien's Luna. When vampires invaded our territory, I threw myself in front of a wolfsbane arrow meant for him. Damien held my hand and asked if I had any last words. I looked past him, at Heidi, draped in that white fox cloak, dazzling. I pushed his hand away. And I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the Full Moon Gala. The Luna had moonstones brought out. She smiled. "Whoever has the purest bloodline becomes Damien's betrothed." I ran my fingers over the moonstone and lowered my head. A faint, dim light flickered across its surface.

I pleaded with my husband Cedric Fleetham over and over, and finally, he agreed to take our daughter camping in the mountains for her birthday. When I found her late the next night, she was already gone. She lay at the foot of the mountain, her tiny hand still clutching a drawing of our family. As I knelt beside her, my heart shattered. Meanwhile, Cedric was busy updating his social media. His post read, [You and our daughter are my treasures,] and it was accompanied by a photo, where he stood beside his childhood sweetheart and held hands with another little girl, watching the sunset. And there, in the corner of the picture, was a tiny hand—my daughter’s hand. The cruelest truth of all was that my daughter took that photo.

After three years of relentless pursuit, I finally won over Logan—a guy who had never shown the slightest interest in women—and he cherished me like I was his entire world. On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally overheard one of his friends teasing him, "Logan, are you really ready to step into the grave of marriage for Bella? And what about Joann? She's chased you for so many years. Don't you feel anything for her?" Logan's voice was cold. "If we hadn't grown up together, I wouldn't even want to see Joann's face. She could never compare to Bella, ever." So, I held onto dreams for our future, and I married him. Two years later, at our daughter's hundred-day celebration, Joann came to me in tears, claiming her baby had leukemia—and that only my daughter could save her baby. Logan's eyes reddened instantly, and without hesitation, he sent our daughter into the operating room to have her blood drawn. I struggled in the bodyguards' grip desperately, crying and pleading, "Logan, Lily is still so little. She can't take this. She'll die! Please, use the cord blood I stored for her. I'm begging you, let her go." He kicked me aside. "It's just a bit of blood. Joann's baby is dying, and you're still this selfish? Get out!" When the surgery was over, he tossed a divorce agreement at me. "Joann's child is mine. I have to give them both a name, and I'm taking her abroad for treatment." I stared at my silent, motionless daughter in the operating room, my heart turning to ash. "Fine." Six years later, Logan saw me in a baby store, holding the hand of my five-year-old son. Logan reached out with a pained look, trying to pick him up. "Why did you cut Lily's hair so short? She looks like a boy. What were you thinking?"

On the orders of his mentor, Damian Luther leaves the countryside and becomes the live-in son-in-law to a beautiful CEO. Henceforth, he bestows salvation with one hand and eternal damnation with the other, beginning his unfettered life in the city.

On the night of the Benedetto family's Harvest Festival, my Mafia husband, Salvatore, told me to bring our son, Giuseppe, to the family gathering. He said his madre had finally accepted us into the Benedetto bloodline. I was trembling with excitement in our little cottage as I dressed Giuseppe in his finest little suit. He had carved a single wooden rose by hand, a project he'd saved for over five years. He said he would present it to his grandmother at the celebration, a plea for her to accept our place in the family. But the moment we stepped into the stone manor, I saw Carmela. Salvatore had her pinned against an oak barrel in a deep, searing kiss. In the moonlight, her hand was undoing his tie. In front of everyone, Salvatore smiled and gently pushed her away. He walked toward the family members gathered in a semicircle and raised a crystal glass. "Tonight, in addition to celebrating the harvest, I have an important announcement." "I would like to introduce you all to the woman I have married in the eyes of God and the Church." "Miss Carmela Torrino." Before I could even process his words, Giuseppe tore his hand from mine and rushed forward. "Papa, what are you saying?" "Isn't my mother your wife?"

During the two months that I was away for a competition, my neighbors insulted me in the neighborhood’s common group chat. [The girl living on the ninth floor, you look like a decent girl. Why are you bringing so many men back home every day?] [Can you moan a little softer? I don’t care if you’re a sex worker, but if you keep making loud noises until midnight, don’t blame me for calling the police!] [Don’t call the police yet. I haven’t had my turn. How much are you charging, Charlene?] My heart sank. Before I left for my competition, I had asked my boyfriend, Jacob Smith, to take care of my luxury river-view apartment. That way, he could keep an eye on my expensive paintings. What was happening? I rushed home in confusion, but when I opened the door, I was further dumbfounded. My 3,000-square-foot apartment had been partitioned into 30 rooms. Meanwhile, Jacob’s childhood friend, Prissy Black, was holding a string of keys as she collected rent money. When they saw me, everyone started laughing. “What? Are you here to rent from Prissy after learning that she’s providing cheap rooms in such a pristine location? “Too bad everyone knows that you’re eyeing her boyfriend. You won’t be able to benefit from doing such a thing!” I was extremely furious as I approached Jacob to talk about it. However, he told me that it was Prissy’s dream to be a landlady. He asked me not to pay it any mind and to treat it as doing a good deed. “You’re rich anyway. Don’t be so calculative. Everyone’s happy now, so what’s wrong with that?” The keys tinkled in Prissy’s hand as if they were taunting me. “This house doesn’t welcome stray animals like you. You have yourself to blame for not having such a nice boyfriend.” The two of them acted all lovey-dovey in front of me, and I immediately called the police. “Someone’s trespassing on my property, and my painting that’s worth 15 million dollars has gone missing. What type of punishment would this entail?”

We have just finished our classes for the day when Nicholas Wolfe tells me that he's going to a concert with his junior, Madeline Cross. "I'm heading over to the venue right now. I can't let Madeline wait for me, after all." Nicholas sounds so casual, as though he's talking about the weather. I arrange my textbooks neatly before putting them into my bag. "Okay." My response leaves Nicholas stunned. He pauses in the middle of typing a text to Madeline before raising his head to look at me. "Madeline and I are about to watch the concert performed by The Paxleys, your favorite band. Are you… not mad at me at all?" I zip my bag while replying calmly, "Nope." I've begged Nicholas 99 times to watch the concert with me. On the 100th time, he finally buys two tickets… for himself and Madeline. I'm not surprised in the slightest. Ever since Madeline transferred to our university, I've started to get used to Nicholas prioritizing her over me. I sling my bag onto my shoulder and begin making my way to the classroom's exit. Nicholas doesn't move an inch. But when I'm about to leave, he catches up with me and grips my wrist. "Lia, we'll travel to Sorenton three days later. The Paxleys will be holding another concert there. I'll attend that concert with you. "That day is our third-year anniversary, so I definitely won't bail out on you." I look down at Nicholas' hand that's gripping me, then I look up at him. This time, my lips curl into a smile. "Okay." Over the past six months, Nicholas has promised me to do things "next week" nine times, and said "I'll definitely show up" 13 times, and "don't worry" 16 times. But he's bailed out on me every single time he makes plans with me. Next week, we won't be attending the concert together, that's for sure. After all, I'm the one bailing on him this time.

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, Vincent Castellano celebrated like a man who had been handed heaven. Fireworks over Brooklyn. Vows whispered against my stomach. Promises that his empire, his loyalty, and his life were mine. That same day, I found out the hospital built in my name had been sheltering his affair. While I was throwing up and fighting to keep our babies safe, he was holding another woman in the next room. So I made my choice. I would keep the twins. But Vincent Castellano would lose all three of us.