True Crime

Durante o plantão noturno, recusei o pedido de aplicar soro no paciente que minha irmã de criação cuidava. Vi, com meus próprios olhos, um menino de sete anos morrer devido a uma reação alérgica causada pela medicação errada. Na vida passada, mal tinha terminado de aplicar o soro, quando familiares furiosos invadiram o posto de enfermagem e me espancaram até meu rosto ficar irreconhecível. Mas o soro era apenas glicose, não havia razão para acontecer algo assim. Com a consciência turva, ouvi alguém chamar a polícia. Achei que, finalmente, a salvação havia chegado. Jamais imaginei que seria meu próprio irmão, policial, quem me jogaria no chão. Meu amigo de infância, agora médico legista, apresentou o laudo da autópsia e me incriminou. Sem ter como me defender, acabei sendo espancada até a morte pelos familiares do menino, tomados pela fúria. Até o último suspiro, não entendi por que meu irmão querido e o amigo de infância agiram assim comigo. Quando abri os olhos novamente, estava de volta àquela noite.

Cette nuit-là, pendant mon service, j'avais accepté à contrecœur la demande suspecte de Maïté Toutain, ma sœur adoptive : changer la perfusion d'un petit patient. Comment aurais-je pu deviner que j'assisterais, impuissante, au décès d'un garçon de sept ans, foudroyé par une réaction allergique ? Ses proches, éperdus de rage, ont fait irruption dans le poste de soins et m'ont rouée de coups : « C'est toi qui as administré le mauvais liquide ! Tu as tué mon enfant ! » Je n'avais perfusé que du glucose… Comment cette tragédie était-elle possible ? Alors que ma conscience vacillait, quelqu'un avait appelé la police. J'espérais une délivrance, mais c'était mon propre frère, Gilbert Toutain, policier, qui m'a maintenue au sol. Pire, mon ami d'enfance, André Corne, médecin légiste, m'a accusée sur la base d'un rapport d'autopsie. Impossible de me justifier. Sous les coups, j'ai succombé. À mon dernier souffle, une question me hantait : pourquoi Gilbert et André, qui m'avaient toujours chérie, m'avaient-ils trahie ? Mais quand j'ai rouvert les yeux… j'étais de retour, cette même nuit...

“Darlene Roberts, you're under arrest for the death of George Martins.”I look up with misty eyes only to see a bunch of cops, guns blazing and aimed at me. Funny enough, I don't even freeze neither do I panic. My attention goes back to my ex lover whose limp body is still warm with blood oozing from his forehead and chest. His shirt is torn and his big eyes are staring blankly at me. I've managed to help shut his mouth which was agape and his twisted lips. It seems he had put up one hell of a struggle before he gave up the ghost.“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in the court of law.Does the cop mean what he has just said? I mean, I'm not the murderer here. I rushed here to help as soon as I could!

Five years ago, when my boyfriend's small company was on the brink of bankruptcy I stepped in to save him, quietly supporting him from the shadows. Without revealing my identity, I became the company’s largest shareholder. Five years later, the night before his company was set to go public, he held me in his arms and said, "Emma, after the company goes public tomorrow, don’t leave. I have a surprise for you." At that moment, I was swept away by the idea of his "surprise," my mind racing with the hopeful thought that he might propose. I didn’t notice the cold glint of malice lurking in his eyes. The next day, as his company went public, he slapped me across the face and sneered, "Do you even see what kind of person you are? Did you really think someone like you could marry me?" He grabbed me by the hair and dragged both me and my best friend in front of a crowd of thugs and beggars he’d gathered. “These worthless cast-offs aren’t good enough for me anymore. Consider them my gift to you. Do whatever you like with them!”

Seven people, five murders, one conspiracy. Mobia is a small European country that sits over a volcano that allows magical beings to live there. Many believe the magic also keeps evil at bay, which lowers their crime rate. Joey Hamilton knows better.

I was the real heiress in a case of a mistaken identity. Three months after my return, the imposter heiress disappeared.   My brother, Caleb Carter, accused me of jealousy, believing I had driven the fake heiress away. The disappointed look on my parents’ faces revealed their true thoughts.   I was confined in the basement, subjected to daily torture.   Even after my death, my family donated my brain to a research institution.   Later, I watched from heaven as my family broke down upon watching my memories.

Natasha Orlova, was the only surviving relative, and daughter of a Moscow streetwalker. Though she grew up in poverty, she was full of ambition. At eighteen, she left Russia and her mother, whom she regarded as a failure, to the golden land of opportunity, America. Like many other young girls migrating to the United States, she dived into the adult industry in search of a living. Her breakthrough in the adult industry came two years later; when an American businessman took enough interest in her to marry her. He was a man involved in a deathly lethal game of crime, but it was all good; for she loved him, and he had money, and money was one thing that was essential to her life. But soon; the tides were to change. Tides, which would eventually force the confession from her,“Money Ain't Loyal." A hard-boiled Crime Thriller by Daniel Junior.

On the night of Mom's birthday, as she was making a wish under the moon, Dad suddenly leaned close to her ear and whispered something. My usually cautious mother, who valued her life above all else, turned around after hearing those words and jumped straight into the pack's silver pit. The silver pit is deadly for us werewolves; only those with a death wish would go there. After her death, countless pack members questioned Dad about what he had said. Someone even offered a million dollars in exchange for those words. But he remained silent. Until the day of my mate ceremony, Dad showed up. He walked up to my fiancé and whispered something...

There is a medical dispute at the hospital. A patient's family member comes at us swinging a knife. Without hesitating, I push my husband, Maxwell Conner, out of the way. But then, he grabs my hand and pulls me in front of his beloved junior, Karina Burton. The knife plunges straight into my abdomen, killing the baby I had just conceived. As my horrified colleagues cry and rush me toward the ICU, Maxwell violently pulls me off the gurney. He barks, "Save Karina first! If anything happens to her, I'll fire every last one of you!" The doctors are stunned and furious. "Maxwell, have you lost your mind? Karina only suffered a minor injury. Your wife is the one in critical condition!" Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I nod slowly. "It's fine. Just forget it." Maxwell, I owe you nothing after this.

It was a case of running from frypan into fire when Mokunfayo bolted out of her supposed engagement party into the clutches of the bad kind of policemen. And when Mike -a drop dead gorgeous, but dangerous leader of an underground Mafia- comes to her rescue in the nick of time, sparks begin to fly. The problem was; it was supposed to be a one time meet up, getting stuck together was not supposed to be included in the messy mix. But there they were; a hurt, bitter, cold, calm and collected lawyer cohabiting in the same space with a hot, panty-dropping, rash, hardened criminal. It is right to assume that more than sparks would fly. Opposites, they say, attract and Mokun and Mike's case wasn't different. But with dark pasts, family secrets, pain and all the bitterness involved, would their attraction survive enough to bloom into something more beautiful? Follow the losses, pains and gains of both parties and the people around them.