Tattoo Karma Boruto

Maya Beckham was Oscar Francis's first love. After four long years abroad, she had assumed any feelings he once held for her had turned to dust. Yet when she returned to Elminas, he proposed. Everyone swore Maya was the love of his life—his one true love, his everything. Touched beyond words, she finally gathered the courage to say yes. …Until the day she discovered Oscar secretly marrying her half-sister, Diana Beckham. She stormed toward him like a woman possessed, her voice trembling with rage. "Explain." Oscar met her fury with infuriating calm. "You vanished without a word four years ago. Diana stayed. Now she's dying—this is her last wish. How could I refuse?" Maya's lips curled into a faint, unreadable smile. What Oscar didn't know? She was the one diagnosed with a difficult illness back then. Later, Maya got into an accident and forgot Oscar entirely. Oscar broke down. Day after day, he pounded on her door like a madman, begging her to remember.

Three soldiers have mysteriously vanished The Army was perplexed. Desperate, they turned to the famous Supernatural Professor, Anthony Jin, a lecturer who has a track record of tackling spirits from the other worlds Gifted with the mystical powers since he was a child, Anthony can see, communicate and command spirits from the other dimensions. With gusto, he began the investigation but very soon found out that this is no simple case of spiritual disappearance. Deep in the jungle of Bukit Pandan, a military training ground, a grievous yet powerful soul lurks – a lady spirit that is ominously powerful. Anthony was determined to find the root cause for her presence. Little did he know he would soon uncover the mystery behind a crime committed sixty years ago and undermine the fortunes of one of Asia's richest families The Supernatural Professor – The Jungle is the first in a book series about the adventures of Dr Anthony Jin and promises a roller coaster ride through a paranormal story that is packed with action, mystery and love.

Love is both salvation and torment. If Bella Ramsey were given another chance, she swore—she would never fall in love with Seth Rogan again.

It was the happiest day of his life to end up being the most tragic one. Everyone talked about it, 'the murdered bride who didn't reach her destiny', and at the end only person to sentence. Isela. Stefan swore he'd put her behind bars and she swore she was going to get revenge on whoever made her cry out she was innocent. Five years later she was able to feel the warm sunlight caressing her face with the difference she was no longer Isela. She'd come back as another woman. And just one name in her mind; Stefan. "So, was she released?" "Yes, my friend. She's out of prison, ready to start over." Stefan hit his desk. "Start over? And when Eliza will start over? She's dead and that murderer out." "Let her live her life, man." "Bring her. Look for her and bring her to me. Her hell just started."

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

At my engagement ceremony, Luke Brown's first love suddenly appeared. He kissed her right in front of everyone and rekindled their old romance. "I'm sorry, Claire. I can't lie to myself," he said to me. "No matter how hard you try, you'll never be her." The ceremony turned into a joke. But later, when the most powerful man in Grento took my hand, Luke finally panicked. "Wait, the one you love is me," he said. Anderson Brown chuckled and pulled me into his arms. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Claire West."

My grandfather is a nationally renowned inheritor of an intangible cultural heritage. Today, I'm supposed to attend a grand ceremony as his rightful successor. However, when I arrive, I see my father's adoptive daughter already standing on the stage. She's dressed to the nines. She holds an award and is giving a thank-you speech, looking moved. In the past, I would've left without saying anything or speaking up for myself. Too bad for her that I'd been reborn. The discrepancy between our statuses is so large that we're basically from different worlds. Yet she has the nerve to claim to be my grandfather's successor and put on a show with what is supposed to be my family's.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

My boyfriend was both poor and mute, yet we were deeply in love. When the earthquake struck, he clawed at the rubble with his bare hands to save me. His ten fingers were reduced to raw, bloody stumps. I worked three jobs just to support him, often pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion. Most days, I was so hungry I fainted. But I never imagined the truth—he had only pretended to be mute to deceive me. And he wasn’t poor at all. In fact, he was the wealthiest man in the city. He could casually order a Ferrari worth millions for his first love, without so much as a second thought. Yet he spent the 10,000 dollars I had painstakingly saved on a handbag for her, leaving me unable to pay for my grandmother’s surgery. She died, helpless and in agony.

Madam Pratt, my mother-in-law, was in critical condition after a car accident, desperately needing surgery. However, as the lead surgeon, I—Lilianne Davis—stood by, casually scrolling through short videos on my phone. My best friend, Tiffany Owens, who was also a doctor, was far more anxious than I was. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the operating room. “Lily, why are you still stalling? Hurry up and save her!” I took a step back, clutching my stomach in pain as her face twisted in shock. “I have cramps so bad I can’t even stand. You do it.” In my last life, the moment I heard about Madam Pratt’s accident, I had swallowed a painkiller and rushed into surgery, working for hours to stabilize her. I had barely stepped away from the operating table when alarms blared. “Lilianne, what have you done? The patient is experiencing acute hemolysis!” “Call the family now!” Gareth Pratt stormed in, his face twisted with rage. He slapped me hard in the face. “Lil, you’re a professional surgeon, yet you gave my mother the wrong blood transfusion?!” I froze, reaching for Madam Pratt’s medical report to explain, only to find that the A-type blood I had seen before had somehow changed to B-type. The medical board arrived, and a blood test revealed traces of hallucinogens in my system. “Unbelievable! Taking illegal substances before surgery? That’s a cardinal sin for a doctor!” In the chaos, Emma Pratt, Gareth’s teenage sister, grabbed a scalpel and stabbed me multiple times. Blood gushed from my arteries, and I collapsed in a pool of crimson. As my vision faded, I couldn’t understand what had happened. I had never taken illegal drugs. Besides, I was absolutely certain of Madam Pratt’s blood type. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment right before stepping into the operating room.