Skeleton Hand Holding Something

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".

Jason Schwartz had been a close friend of my father's, despite the age gap. The year I met him, I was fearless, the kind of girl who thought nothing could touch her. I bit down hard on the hand he offered me. Jason just laughed. "You're adorable," he said. "Like a little wolf." On my 18th birthday, he shoved me onto the bed, his eyes red, as if he had been holding back for years. "Diana, I've finally waited long enough for you to grow up." He was the one who pulled me into that first flutter of desire, the one who led me across every line I wasn't supposed to cross. I grew into exactly the kind of girl he wanted. The day my father was hacked to death by his enemies, Jason took my hand and stepped into his place without hesitation. When I was pregnant, he brought home a girl covered in blood. "Diana, she's not like you. She's like wild grass, tough and stubborn." He said he admired wild grass. But he forgot something. He was the one who raised me into a rose that only knew the shelter of a greenhouse. Good thing I didn't need him anymore.

She once humiliated herself by falling for him. She was set up which led her to his bed and she ended up in a situation she couldn’t even explain. Now, she was pinned against the wall in his office, her hands held above her head. Her back arched slightly, even her body betrayed her, she could see the city view beside them like nothing unusual was happening. “Sir...” She gasped the moment she felt his hand slide beneath her skirt. She regretted wearing a skirt. It had already been pushed up, revealing far more than she was comfortable with. Even with his one hand holding hers, he still has his fingers teasing her slick entrance through soaked lace. She couldn't describe how embarrassed she felt in that particular moment. He smirked and leaned toward her ear “I should hate you,” he whispered “but ever since I saw you naked, I’ve been so obsessed. I want to screw you so hard you will forget everything in the world, but how deep I can bury myself inside you until you’re screaming for more.” She took a deep breath. “This is wrong, Mr…” She swallowed hard. "Please… I still want to live...ahh… boss…” Her protest broke into a soft moan as his fingers went deeper and slowed like he was enjoying every second of her losing control. “Damn…” she gritted her teeth, trying to keep her voice down, afraid someone might hear them through the door. “You’re still pretending?” he chuckled in amusement, he intentionally kept his movement slowly. “My king… please…” she finally said what he had been wanting to hear. She had always been too proud to accept it. They used to hate each other. But could hate really turn into something this intense… this uncontrollable?

On the run from her adoptive father for five years after being sold to the Russian mafia, Lianna took refuge in the states. She thought New York City was a safe place for her, that it was her ticket out of the mafia world. Little did she know that it’s swarming with people much vile than the place escaped from. This city will pull her deeper into the underworld. ~~ "I'm not her." He stood up from his chair abruptly that it fell behind. It took him three strokes until he was holding my neck, lifting me, and pinning me on the wall as he choked me. He breathes the smoke in my face but I was losing air in my lungs to inhale it. "I've searched for you and you're giving me this crap?" he hissed in my face. "Try something else, Alexa, or I'll bury you alive." He let go of my neck, I gasped for air as my lungs took all the air it needed. It's better if he ends my life anyway. I thought to myself. "Where is it?" he asked as he stood beside the table. "Where is what?" He lifts a tattered knife in his hand as he walks slowly to where I stood now. "I'll carve my name in your chest if you don't stop acting dumb, Alexa." He traced the neckline of my dress with his knife. The pointed cold blade sent shivers all over my being. "Where did you bury my father!?" ~~ [Mature Content] Photo credits to Nikola Jovanovic

A week before our wedding, my fiancee, Lauren Blair, went to the hospital for a prenatal checkup. She was accompanied by her newly hired assistant, Ian Kane. Coincidentally, she ended up being assigned to my clinic. I stood there holding Lauren’s pregnancy report in my hand, staring through the narrow gap in the door at the two of them outside. Ian pulled her into his arms by the waist, confessing with aching tenderness, "Lauren, I love you." "I love you too, Ian. I'm only married to Sam because of the circumstances I’m stuck in, but you've always been the one who holds my heart." I stopped hesitating. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my father. "Dad, I accept the marriage alliance with Ms. Sheridan. The wedding date can remain. Just change the bride."

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."

My dad died in a car crash. On the seventh day after his death, I hear him whisper in my ear, "Amara, save your brother. There are cracks in the old stone bridge at the village entrance... It will collapse... He will die." I immediately call my brother, Asher Langford, and he takes a different route out of the village. But that afternoon, the police report that a murder took place on that road. The victim is Asher. My sister-in-law, Delia Winslow, and I bury him in tears. On the seventh day after my brother's death, I hear my dad's voice again. "Amara, keep an eye on Jasper. Don't go to the back of the hill. The dead trees there attract lightning... There will be a thunderstorm in three days." That night, Delia locks my nephew, Jasper Langford, inside the house. But three days later, Jasper falls from a window on the 12th floor. Delia goes insane after losing her husband and son consecutively in such a short time. Holding back my grief, I leave my own son, Billy Calloway, with my husband, Felix Calloway, and help Delia lay Jasper to rest. On the seventh day after Jasper's death, I see my dad holding Billy's hand and looking back at me with a sorrowful expression. He says, "Amara... There are spirits looking for substitutes in the reed marsh in the village. Take care of Billy. Don't go..."

Swiveling her way to finish her last academic year to take over her Mafia and inherited possessions. Marwa's existence is threatened and danger seemed to reel its way to her rather peaceful systematic life. Striving to leave her in a pool of blood with an aching heart and a destroyed future. The danger at hand was to be eliminated. However, her life was about to change and she didn't know if it was for good or bad bringing people she had tried to forget about. The Martinez twins. They ignited a blazing fire she didn't think she was holding within her. She hated them enough to pull them in to bathe in her fire turning them to ashes of death, love and lust. Ultimately, unaware of the treason happening within her most trusted circle. Marwa, Victoriano and Vincentius fight to unravel the traitor and bring them to justice before they end them and everyone they loved.

"Why is it that everytime I met you, you were busy running from me?" He asked me, his hand still holding mine captured above my head. I felt powerless. I couldn't do anything. I hate being vulnerable. No matter what I've always loved to have a sense of power in me but with Michael Milan it just seems impossible. He was like hard drugs mixed together in my system. No matter what I do, I just couldn't get away from him. "Because I'm saving myself from you, Micheal." I whispered softly. "You will destroy me if I get too close." A love at first sight. A love that was so wrong and so right at the same time. Aisling was torn between protecting what she loves and surrendering.

I was scheduled to die in less than 24hrs from now. And the person who conspires to put me out of my miserable life is the one who put me through hell. His hell. My husband. I didn't mind dying. I was rather happy to finally get this thing over with. You know, get over life. But just when I was ready to rest in peace, I met her. Her beautiful blue eyes glittered with tears bringing light to this moonless night. The cold breeze brought a shiver to her fragile tiny body. She looked nothing less than a porcelain doll, delicate and clean. But she scared me when she looked at me with hope. Hope to save her. I laughed at this naive little girl. How was I to save her when I couldn't save myself? Nevertheless, I extended my hand for her to take, and with some hesitation, she wrapped her whole hand around my one finger. First time in my meaningless life I felt a spark. Spark of life enlightened in me with her one innocent touch. She made me want to live a little while longer with a small innocent promise, holding me tight to live with her, for her. Cover by @Aphroditelivid