Tragic Hero Synonym

When my mother-in-law gets hospitalized due to cancer, I'm about to pay the hospital bills when I find out that my wife, Lilibeth Saunders, has used our savings to pay off a male escort's debt. That's when I finally explode in rage. "Mom has gotten hospitalized because of her illness, and yet you use our money to pay off the debt of a useless piece of trash who relies on his manhood for survival! You really are an evil bitch, Lilibeth Saunders!" As Lilibeth grips the lingerie, she remains stone-faced. "How am I the one at fault here? I'm just trying to give my future child a father who still has a future with me! You can always earn money to treat your own mother's illness! Meanwhile, Carl can't do the same thing about his debt! If he doesn't pay off his debt, his life will be ruined! "You only have yourself to blame, Josiah! After all, you're a good-for-nothing impotent man!" The entire room falls eerily silent. My friend, who's there to help patch things up between us, looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. All the criticism surrounding me flashes through my mind at that moment. That's when I realize that it's time for me to end things with Lilibeth once and for all. What she doesn't know is that she's the infertile one based on the doctor's diagnosis. Also, her mother is the one being hospitalized, not mine.

My younger son, who is seven, is bitten by a snake. I take him to my elder son's hospital to be treated. To my surprise, my elder son's girlfriend thinks I'm his mistress. Not only does she stop the medical personnel from treating my younger son, but she even slaps me. "My boyfriend and I are a perfect match. How dare you bring your illegitimate son here to challenge me!" She pins me to the floor as she pummels and harms me. She even screeches, "A slut like you will only stop going around seducing others once you're incapable of it!" I'm bruised, battered, and bleeding as I'm wheeled into the emergency room. My elder son handles the operation. His hand trembles as he clutches his scalpel, and he looks ashen. "Who did this to you, Mom?"

After my husband picked up his secretary and our son, they went into the hotel for a business meeting. Photos of them were trending online. I gave him a call to ask him about it, but he hung up on me impatiently. “I’m meeting a client. Obviously, we’re meeting at the hotel! Can you stop being unreasonable?” I was busy contacting IT support to retract the trending topics. Two hours later, I received a call from the emergency department of the hospital. When I reached the hospital, my son was already dead. In his hand, he was still holding a staff ID tag. The secretary’s name was on the tag. I broke down crying. My husband, Zac Davis, had blocked my number so I could not reach him. After I completed the hospital procedures, Zac finally returned my call. He sounded very angry and impatient, “Did you fetch our son? Why didn’t you inform me? Don’t you know that we’re all waiting for him to pass us the agreement? Just send the document over now!” After that, he immediately hung up and blocked my number again. I stared at the notification on my phone and sneered. I was going to snatch your clients and force you into a dead end!

In my fifth year of marriage to Dominic, I'd become the woman all of Chicago knew as the crazy one — the mental case. Jealousy gnawed at me constantly, and my temper frayed easily, my emotions sharp and unsteady, unravelling more with each passing day. So it only made sense when he slid a divorce agreement across the table. "Vivian's pregnant. A Harrington heir can't be born illegitimate, and Mrs. Harrington can't be a lunatic." "Once she's had the baby, I’ll marry you again, and you'll still be Mrs. Harrington." I was forced to sign my name, then locked away in a private sanatorium a hundred miles from the city. The first year, I waited with desperate hope for him to come take me home. Instead, he handed me an ultrasound report. "Twins — a boy and a girl. Vivian's pregnant again. Just wait a little longer." The second year, he had electric fencing installed around the sanatorium grounds. "Harrington Corp is going public. We can't afford any slip-ups right now." By the fifth year, he simply called to tell me to wait one more year. He must have expected me to scream and lose control the way I always did. But this time, I just nodded calmly. "Alright. However long it takes." After all. I didn't have much time left anyway.

Everyone in the mercenary group knew just how deeply Liam Smith loved me and feared losing me. He even suppressed his dark desires to make sure I felt truly safe. No matter how dangerous the mission, he made sure to check in every single day. Worried for his safety, I hid my identity and secretly became his team’s hacker. However, after one mission, I overheard the others joking over the radio: "Chief was in such a rush to pick that lock and go after Wendy. What's so irresistible about her?" Through an unattended monitor, I caught Liam glancing at the camera with a teasing smile. "Didn't I tell you guys that she nearly wrung me dry the last time we did it?" It felt like I had fallen into an ice-cold abyss. My heart shattered, and I summoned the system. [I want to leave this world.] The cold, mechanical voice replied without delay: [Once you leave, all traces of the host in this world will be erased.] [Starting the countdown: Seven days left.]

I accidentally saw a notification pop up on my husband’s phone saying that an automatic transfer had been completed when I was using it for navigation. Immediately after that, his ex-girlfriend, Wanda Blake, sent him a message on WhatsApp: [I’ve received this month’s 10,000 dollars for child support. Thank you, Koah. I don't know what I would have done without you.] I froze. “Child support? “Koah, you told me that the money you send every month was for medical expenses for your mother’s treatment!” Koah Quinn’s expression stiffened as he explained, “Honey, don’t misunderstand. I just felt that life has become really hard for her because she’s a woman raising a child on her own. Her ex-husband refuses to pay child support, so I wanted to help her out…” I touched the old watch on my wrist. The one I had not replaced in years to save money, and felt extremely disappointed. “Your monthly salary is only 6,000 dollars. Where did you get so much money to send her?” He was silent for some time before finally admitting. “I used the money we had set aside for the new house’s downpayment.” I was stunned. He had taken the money my parents had scrimped and saved for decades for me as downpayment for a home and then transferred it to his ex-girlfriend as child support.

To celebrate our daughter's eighteenth birthday, my husband, James Miller, decided to go nude cycling. I told him he was too old for that and would embarrass himself, but he looked at me with disdain and said, "Liliana, your life is so boring. You refuse to embrace new things." Then he brought the dog belonging to his first love, Sophia Lewis, and placed it before me. It was then I realized it was Sophia who had organized the nude cycling event. I felt my anger boiling beneath the surface as our son, Thomas, took the leash and handed it to me. "Dad, you can go have fun with Sophia. Mom will take care of the dog," Thomas said. But when the dog lunged at me later, Thomas protected it. Meanwhile, my daughter, Alice, fought to shield me. In the end, both Alice and I were bitten to death. James didn't even take us to the hospital. Instead, he dragged our bodies straight to the crematorium. Just before I turned into a wisp of smoke, I saw Alice rolling in the flames. During that time, James and Thomas were comforting Sophia. At that moment, I felt a deep rage—rage at myself for being so naive and for causing my daughter's death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when my son handed me the leash. This time, I was determined to make them all pay.

Five years into marriage, Silvia Serra becomes both Dante Valenti's most lethal weapon and his most invisible presence. She shields him from bullets. She crosses a freezing river for him. Her scars accumulate, and his response is an assumption that it is how things are meant to be. In time, Dante grows repulsed by the violence clinging to her. He derides her lack of charm and gives his warmth to another woman instead. He allows others to grind down her dignity, and with a new lover in his arms, he openly stains her name. Silvia tolerates it so she can continue guarding him. Everyone mocks her as if she's numb to it all, driven away again and again, but never truly gone. Then comes the night of pounding rain. Cast aside without ceremony, Silvia erases every sign she was ever there and leaves with finality. Dante treats it as nothing more than sulking, convinced she will return within three days. Later, the once-untouchable Don was seen on his knees at Silvia's feet, stripped of all pride, begging her to turn back and look at him just once.

A kidnapper's gun was pressed to Lena's temple and mine, the whole scene streaming live online. "Nolan," the kidnapper said, "your wife, Donna, or your first love. Only one of them walks away alive. Choose." On the other side of the screen, my husband, Don Nolan Winston, head of the Winston family, did not hesitate for even a second. "Let Lena go. As for that woman, do whatever you want with her." I looked into the camera and laughed until tears ran down my face. For seven years, I had stood by him as he rose from the Winston family's illegitimate son to the first Don of the Italvia mafia. I had taken knives for him, drunk with him, even lost a child along the way. So in the end, in his eyes, I had been nothing more than a pawn he could discard at any moment. "Did you hear that?" the kidnapper sneered at me. I turned and ran toward the cliff. Facing the camera, I spoke my final words. "Nolan, I'm giving this life back to you. We're even now."

On the night of the full moon, my mate, Alpha Wade Rizzotto of the Bloodmoon pack, has sent someone to deliver me a box of gifts. He also has the wolf bring me a message, stating that he'll be home tonight. Warmth floods into my heart. Even though Wade is extremely busy with work and hasn't been able to meet me in person for half a year, he still cares about me and our unborn pup. Giddily, I begin preparations on dinner while eagerly anticipating Wade's return. But as soon as Wade steps into our home, I instantly pick up on a foreign yet strong scent of a she-wolf clinging to his form. My wolf's instincts flare up instantly. Having sensed my suspicion, Wade gently comforts me in order to suppress my uneasiness and doubt. But the she-wolf's scent that's obviously not mine keeps bothering me the whole time. I remember the way Wade began putting more distance between us over the past six months. Doubt and suspicion begin taking over my mind like mad. Throughout the week after that, I stalk Wade every day. Still, I can't spot anything that's off with him. So, I begin consoling myself, thinking that I must have gotten far too sensitive during my pregnancy. Maybe the hormones are affecting my wolf's senses, making me paranoid. I've decided that from tomorrow onward, I will not stalk Wade ever again. But that's when the Moon Goddess plays a cruel prank on me.