The Mistress Of Auschwitz Mga Nobela at Kwento

I'm a good luck charm to my wife by nature. After marrying me, Heather Seymour, who's crippled because of a car crash, miraculously stands up on her own and gets to ditch the wheelchair. On top of that, her business is booming as well. In less than half a year, she successfully establishes her own company. After Heather's company goes public, she tells me with a smile that she wants to give me a huge gift at the celebration party. I'm filled with anticipation, thinking that Heather finally wants to fulfill her promise of having a child with me. But instead, Heather is seen lacing fingers with her subordinate, Lucas Mallard, at the celebration party. Not only does she announce her relationship with Lucas, but she also tosses me a divorce agreement. Her expression remains icy as she says, "Randall Grahm, if it wasn't for the fact that I got into an accident when Lucas was studying abroad, I wouldn't have married you, to begin with! "Now that my legs have recovered, my company is listed, and I'm pregnant with Lucas' baby, it's high time for you to return the position as the CEO's husband to him! Our family of three will finally be whole again!" It turns out that Heather married me just so I can take over the responsibilities of taking care of her back then. Everyone thinks that I'll go ballistic from rage, so they can't wait to see me humiliate myself. But I just agree with the divorce with a smile before dropping my signature on the paperwork. What Heather doesn't know is that I'm only a good luck charm to her simply because of the system I'm bound to. Once the divorce is official, the things that I've given to her—that are exchanged from the system—will be taken back one by one!

After I brought in 300 million dollars in investment for his company, my fiance showed me the home we would share. I thought we would finally get married after eight years together, but instead, he turned on a building game. “I laid every brick here. Once the company is listed, I’ll build you a house just like this one.” I found him and his secretary showing off their love. He had bought her an expensive villa as a gift. I sent the photo to my fiance. “You can afford to buy someone a villa as a gift, but not our home?” Displeased, he said, “Alyssa is the company’s backbone. I’m only giving her a villa to encourage the other staff to do better!” But in the background, I heard Alyssa’s pleased laughter. “Some people should really be more self-aware. Does she think getting some investment makes her the boss of this company?” I did my best to suppress my anger. I wanted to see just how long the company would survive if not for the investments I found!

While waiting for my husband to pick me up at the parking lot, I came across a trending topic in my city. "How do I deal with an overly-clingy wife?" Amidst a flurry of boastful, lovey-dovey comments, one female username caught my attention. "Just pretend to be incompetent! My childhood friend was forced to marry someone he didn’t love. I gave him the idea to pretend to be directionally-challenged, which he has done for five years now. "When his wife got pregnant, he secretly mixed lubricant into the shower gel, causing her to slip. Then, on the way to the hospital, he pretended to get lost. He deliberately circled the suburbs several times, which led to her miscarriage and now she can't have children anymore." "Coincidentally, today is supposed to be the selection day for her promotion to professor. He offered to drive her to work, but he actually plans to pretend to get lost to make her late so that I can get promoted instead. "When she fails the selection, he’ll use that as a chance to convince her to quit her job, turn her into a useless housewife, and then kick her out!" Reading this suspiciously familiar experience sent a chill down my spine. Before I could ponder further, I heard my husband’s apologetic voice. "Sorry, honey, I got lost. I hope this won't affect your selection."

My wife, Sandra Wren, had suggested taking our daughter, Annie, to a childcare center, saying that it would be better for our daughter. I didn't think much of it and handed her a card. I went on a business trip for half a month. Watching the daily charges on my card, I felt nothing but satisfaction. Until my best friend suddenly sent me a video. The location tag was at the childcare center. "Dude. Why is your wife staying after class for 'extra lessons'? Is it more exciting in the classroom?" In the video, Sandra's lace underwear hung around her ankles. The floor was littered with used condoms. The tables in the childcare classroom creaked noisily. I immediately called her. On the phone, I could faintly hear her suppressed yet excited breathing. She said, slightly panting, "Honey, I'm flying a kite with Annie. Did you miss us?" I let out a cold laugh. "Yes. I missed you so much, I came back overnight. Which classroom are you in? I'll bring you condoms."

I canceled my ticket to Iceland. Even the customer service agent sounded confused. “There are only two seats left on this flight. Are you sure you want to cancel?” “Yes,” I said. “I’m sure.” We had been together for four years. Every February, he flew to Iceland. He always said it was for a photography project. On social media, he only posted glaciers and the northern lights. Whenever I said I wanted to see the aurora too, he would tell me, “It’s too cold there. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.” Then yesterday, I helped him organize an old hard drive. Inside was an encrypted folder named **February**. When I opened it, every photo was of the same girl standing beneath the same northern lights. The light was soft around her. Even the strands of her hair glowed clearly in the frame. The only photo he had ever taken of me was outside our apartment complex. Backlit. Out of focus. My eyes were squinting, and my entire face was blurred. At the time, he had even laughed and said, “As long as you can tell it’s you, it’s fine.” So it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to take good photos. He just never wanted to take them of me. For four years, he chased the northern lights. And every time, the same person stood beside him. The farthest light I had ever seen was nothing more than an Iceland photo he had posted carelessly online. While I was packing my things, he called me. His voice was rushed. “Weren’t you the one who kept saying you wanted to see the northern lights? Why did you cancel the ticket?” I hung up without answering. Iceland was too far. The aurora was too cold. Since he was never willing to come toward me, I would walk toward the light on my own.

My husband, Clement Norman, promised to make up for our missed honeymoon. It was five years late, but I was still excited. I got ready and really looked forward to it. But right before we boarded the plane, I realized there was someone extra in our group—Clement's childhood friend, Madison Bowen. He explained half-heartedly, "Madison's never been abroad before. I figured we could bring her along." I wasn't thrilled, but when I spoke up, he made it sound like I was being dramatic. "Are you jealous of our relationship because you didn't grow up with a proper family? I see her as a sister. You wouldn't get it—you grew up an orphan." I chose to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin our honeymoon. But we encountered an avalanche halfway through the trip. My leg got stuck deep in the snow, and I couldn't move. And the first thing Clement did was grab Madison's hand and run. He didn't even look back.

I'd been married to Matteo—the Lamberti Don—for five years. No one knew I was his wife. I didn't want the perks. The spotlight. So I stayed invisible. We were in love. Still felt like dating every single day. Then my first day at the new hospital wrecked everything. "Dr. Accardi, you won't believe this." A coworker leaned in, grinning. "Guess who that new patient's husband is? Matteo freaking Lamberti." I froze. If she was his wife—then who was I? She was pregnant. Carrying the future Lamberti heir. So what did that make the baby inside me? I held it together. Did the exam. Played the calm, capable doctor. No one saw the panic clawing through me. I told myself it was gossip. Lies. It had to be. Then I heard Matteo call her 'my princess.' That was it. He had a new 'princess.' And I had to let him go.

In order to help my family take over the Vitales' casino that's based in North Melcina, I conceal my identity as the sole daughter of Don Leonardo Ricci and begin working as a dealer in Las Vogis. During my undercover mission, I get close to Mattia Vitale, the heir of the Vitales, on purpose. At the same time, I secretly get my hands on the Vitales' weak points. Not only does Mattia not realize my intentions, but he also showers me with love and affection. He doesn't hesitate to gift me jewelry worth millions of dollars. Sometimes, he surprises me with fireworks worth tens of millions of dollars. In fact, he once burns a contract worth a hundred million dollars just to light my cigarette. As I stand under the sky filled with fireworks in Las Vogis, I hear my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Hence, I reject my dad's decision to devour the Vitale family. I thought I finally found true love. But lately, Mattia hasn't been coming home that much now. He also grows colder toward me. In fact, he even announces to everyone else that I'm just his personal assistant at his family gathering. His excuse for hiding our relationship is that he's worried his family elders might target me. But what he doesn't know is that when he almost lost his net worth at the gambling table, I was the one who secretly swapped the cards, allowing him to make a victorious comeback. I plan on telling Mattia the truth on his birthday, and I've already drafted a business deal between my family and his as a surprise for him. But I end up witnessing Mattia being entangled with another woman from my position outside his office. That woman is Ginevra Bellini, the heiress of the Bellini family, a nouveau riche family that has earned their gold from real estate in North Melcina. The Bellinis are as wealthy and powerful as the Vitales, so to the Vitales, Ginevra is the most perfect and suitable marriage partner to Mattia. So, it turns out that Mattia has already labelled his love accordingly. I'm just the bargaining chip that he has chosen to discard after weighing the pros and cons. With a sneer on my face, I toss the contract into the shredder. Then, I call my dad's number. "Do it, Dad. Let's devour the Vitales."

After my father’s death, I decided to divorce my husband, Captain Marcus Hale, and stay in Pine Ridge Village forever. On the first day, I tricked Marcus into signing the divorce papers. On the fifth day, I handed in my resignation to my old unit at Fort Haven. On the seventh day, I cooked a full table of food and said farewell to all my friends. Frowning, Marcus accused me of making the very meal his childhood sweetheart, Julia Summers, hated. I stood up and raised my glass to toast her. From this day on, Marcus and I would have nothing more to do with each other. Half a month later, I saw Marcus returning from a mission in Pine Ridge Village. Only this time, the country evening breeze brought tears to his eyes.

I was a painter, but a car accident took my eyesight. When I was at my lowest, it was my childhood friend, Connor Pitt, who stayed by my side the whole time. He became the only light left in my life. Later, we got married. However, two years into our marriage, I accidentally discovered a recording on the computer. “Connor, thank you for saving me. But you hid the truth from Faye and took her corneas for me. When she wakes up, how are you going to explain it to her? What if she calls the police?” “She won’t find out the truth. I won’t let her. She’s blind anyway. I’ll marry her and keep her under my control, right by my side. June, for you, I’d do anything.” I was stunned, and a shiver ran down my spine. The salvation I thought I had found had been a lie from the very beginning. After sending a copy of the recording to my phone, I scheduled an abortion at the hospital. If that was the case, then it was time for us to go our separate ways.