Torn Photo Isaac

Mariés depuis trois ans, son mari ne l'avait jamais touchée. Et pourtant, en pleine nuit, il s'était soulagé devant une photo de sa sœur. C'est en regardant par hasard son téléphone que Léna Fontaine avait compris : s'il l'avait épousée, ce n'était que pour se venger. Parce qu'elle était la véritable fille biologique, celle qui avait arraché à sa sœur sa place de l'héritière. Déçue et brisée, Léna était retournée vivre auprès de ses parents adoptifs. Mais elle ne s'était pas attendue à ce que Mathieu Delaunay devienne fou, la cherchant partout, désespérément.

He rather die than letting her escape; torn and regrets. She rather escape than him dying before her very eyes.

To help cover our household expenses, I often sold second-hand items online. Late one night, a new listing suddenly appeared under my husband's account. [Private trainer for sale. Almost new. Obedient and resilient. No upkeep required. Cash only.] The attached photo showed a woman from behind, caught in the middle of a yoga pose. The red mole at her waist stood out clearly. It was me. The comments section erupted within seconds. Men with usernames like 'LocalHunter' started bidding aggressively. [Five hundred. Thirty minutes. Pickup only. No negotiations.] [Are you kidding? Two thousand. All night. I'll bring my own gear.] My husband immediately replied to the highest bidder: Adrian 'The Butcher' Kane. [Deal. She's in the bedroom. The door isn't locked. Go straight in.] In the next moment, the bedroom doorknob slowly began to turn from the other side.

After four years of marriage, James Lawson, who had never posted anything on social media, unexpectedly updated his status: "What an adorable little foodie!" The attached photo showed a young woman wearing pink cat ears, eating at a Korean BBQ restaurant. Her cheeks were flushed red from the spicy food as she stuck out her tongue. It was Sophie Jones, a new content creator at his company. Within a minute, our mutual friend commented: "Dude, you forgot to switch accounts!" Just like that, James's new post disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, only to show up moments later on Sophie's feed. Then James's name lit up my phone screen. In the past, I would have already taken screenshots and called him first to confront him. It would have inevitably ended in a heated argument. But this time, I calmly watched his call go to voicemail without answering.

My sister abruptly returns to the country on the day of my wedding. My parents, brother, and fiancé abandon me to pick her up at the airport. She shares a photo of them on her social media, bragging about how she's so loved. Meanwhile, all the calls I make are rejected. My fiancé is the only one who answers, but all he tells me is not to kick up a fuss. We can always have our wedding some other day. They turn me into a laughingstock on the day I've looked forward to all my life. Everyone points at me and laughs in my face. I calmly deal with everything before writing a new number in my journal—99. This is their 99th time disappointing me; I won't wish for them to love me anymore. I fill in a request to study abroad and pack my luggage. They think I've learned to be obedient, but I'm actually about to leave forever.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

The day before my fifth wedding anniversary to my husband, the jewelry store manager called me. He reported that the expensive jewelry I had commissioned for my husband had been accidentally damaged by the staff. However, the shop was willing to pay a penalty for breach of contract. He hung up before I could lose my temper. I immediately received a message from my husband and $6 million in compensation. [So you're the shameless homewrecker. How dare you keep my husband's contact information! I'm warning you: I've given you the money, now get lost! Otherwise, I'll have to teach you a lesson!] The woman smugly sent me an intimate photo to follow up on her threats. Looking at the familiar side profile, I immediately called my biological parents, who were high-ranking businesspeople. "Dad, Mom, put the Shelby family's investment on hold for now. I'm getting a big gift ready for them!"

I’d been dead a month before my family even noticed. It wasn’t concern that brought them to that realization. It was my silence after the so-called “dinner” with Adam Rossi, the infamous mafia boss. My father scoffed like always,“She probably shacked up with that bastard. Too busy spreading her legs to pick up the damn phone.” My sister texted me a photo of them smiling under the Christmas tree, ornaments twinkling like nothing was wrong. Bitch, she wrote. You better talk Mr. Rossi into working with Dad, or you might as well be dead already. And my mother—once the softer one—was now colder than the frost on their windows. “I told you, we should’ve sent Gia to charm Mr. Rossi. Serena always screws things up.” They didn’t think I would die. Not until they found my body—broken, rotten, and forgotten—in Adam Rossi’s basement.

SYNOPSIS My mind and heart were all over the place as I stared straight into his blue grayish eyes, this time not looking away. “What do you want Liz?" I gulped, “you.” ~ Lizzy Greene, a popular actress and heiress to a multimillionaire company attends the 'royal' high school. School for the rich and high status. What happens when the new hot guy expected at her school is actually her neighbor next door? Noah King, a handsome, egoistic, hot bad boy transfers to a new school and state far from home only to find out that the popular actress was his neighbor next door. The both of them both have their scars and secrets. With all the secrets in the open, will they be able to become more than just neighbors? Find out in this story of love, betrayal, heartbreak, secrets and friendship. cover made by; @maramartha picture found on Pinterest. Model: Danielle Campbelle photo credit: Dusman Kardesler

While I try on various wedding rings, my fiance, Don Demetrio Farese, who has tagged along, suddenly snatches the ring from my fingertip. "You already lost a finger, Lucia. The ring will look ugly on you. Carlotta, on the other hand, looks beautiful with a ring on her finger." Then, Demetrio fishes out a photo featuring him sinking down on one knee while sliding a ring onto Carlotta Rini's finger. My chest tightens. "What are you trying to say?" "Let Carlotta wear the wedding ring. You've already lost a finger anyway—you don’t need it." Pain slowly spreads from my chest to the rest of my body. For a moment, I almost lose my balance. The truth is, Demetrio's mortal enemy is the one who severed my finger by shooting at it. Back then, I only got shot because I had shielded Demetrio from the bullet.